55 gaucho phrases to learn what it’s like to be from the south

Everything in this life passes, except the desire to drink chimarrão.

Gauchos do not live by “bah” and “tchê” alone. A good lizard in the sun, watered with mate serves to make everything tri cool.

More difficult than swimming in a poncho is sleeping with a spur without tearing the sheet.

Gaucho is not, he is sure.

Here’s a fan of the Alegrete song.

It doesn’t come with tangerine, which I only eat bergamot.

If you bring your pride of being Brazilian, I will give you my honor of being a gaucho.

Don’t bother you and take a mate.

People who speak Bah! Bye! Capaaaaz! And he thinks the cool things are tri cool.

Gaucho does not give up, gaucho “let go”.

Calm down, drink a mate, eat some bergamots and don’t lock up. Not everything deserves your intensity.

I take chimas in redemption.

I’m a gaucho by tradition, from barbecue to chimarrão.

I’m proud to be a gaucho, everything here is beautiful by nature, that’s why I give myself the luxury of praising your beauty.

Bah! The butiá fell out of my pocket!

Gaucho has no culture; gaucho has is tradition.

I am gaúcha and that’s right, bring the flame of emotion the love for this land… honoring its tradition.

Smile, bye. You were born gaucho!

Being a gaucho is not a geographical condition, it is a philosophy of life.

My summer is the summer of May.

Today I’m like hot watermelon, crazy to do harm.

Gaucho cries for spilled milk, but drops my mate for you to see the fight it gives.

It is made of salami, of cross-eyed pig to suckle on two teats. You can’t take a ride, with a gaucho, it doesn’t cool you off.

In this bitterly cold Cusco, only using two shelters, a japona and a boiling chima.

A people who fought so hard for freedom cannot leave the pride of being gaucho imprisoned!

In the South, it’s like this: smart frog doesn’t enter snake dance.

Get closer, living being, that today is the day to chimarre aimlessly.

No one tames hope, freedom is not snarled. A raging heart gallops free in my chest.

If the cat’s eye blackened, it’s no use crying the pitangas. She calms you down with mate so you don’t run free.

On top of the bow, I’m going to launch that chasque to win the heart of my china in the fandango.

Hey, beautiful gift, prettier than sample orange. It’s today that I take the load.

Whoever drinks the water from Rio Grande do Sul, plays with nostalgia.

Gaudério is not an open mouth. The harness goes down in sadness and smokes in discouragement, for the trail is long and a good rider is made with a brave horse.

There’s no such thing as killing Cusco by screaming. It is despacito that the gaucho wins the world.

People from Rio Grande do Sul are not terrified, they struggle on Wednesdays and lift the bucket without delay.

A gaucho with a well-polished pile doesn’t want war with anyone.

When outsiders listen to Gaudério’s prose, they are more lost than Cusco in a shootout.

Bah, pass me this mate that I came to this life just to take it down.

Seeing you, my heart skipped a beat with passion. With the reins on the ground, you give me a smile that makes me look good!

All a gaucho needs is a bit of courage and a mate in hand to win the battles of life.

The only person who understands what saudade is is who played in the pampas. It’s every sunset of afudê!

Don’t squint at me, lay your hair down, shit shit doesn’t have a chance with a gaucho. Entrevero is guaranteed.

May the only bitter taste of your life be a good mate and never lack company to share the gourd.

With a gaucho around, you know you can stop the scream!

At the tip of the hooves, the real gaucho calls in the chincha and decides to walk.

Anyone who has a friend from Rio Grande do Sul knows what the fidelity of barbecuing on the same skewer is.

There is no layer of wood that will make the gaucho give up the fight. Here, take a shot. It’s a shot and howler lying down.

It is quite possible that a bitter cold in Cusco will disrupt the tradition of the gaucho barbecue.

More fun than a boy in a new bombacha, more fun than a new goose in the sanga is the gaucho with mate in hand!

Without trova or chalalá, gaucho smells jaguara and doesn’t fall into a trova older than the draft of the Bible.

My dick is shorter than a pig’s kick, but to live the tradition there’s never a lack of flourish.

In the flame of the bonfire, in the heat of the mate, the gaucho ignites his pride in living the tradition.

On a barbecue day, the Gaudérios are happier than even paisano at half guampa.

The gaucho tradition needs to be better known than the prayer of the Our Father.

In the South, there is no slippery. Here the party is good and the float is full, a tradition that runs in the veins.