He was a blacksmith in our small town,
lively and smart a man, a good comrade.
He liked bicycling by shorts and shirtless,
only in very frosty Sunday winter nights,
snaking by crowd’s comings and goings,
as challenging people and bad weather.
Mainly women always said – what a man!
Once, we asked what became of Macário.
He suffered from pneumonia,
taken to the hospital and died.