O Amor Não É Amado

In my dream I walked so happily
Suddenly I saw a poor man
Walking along the road to Assisi
So distressed that I confess I cried

I asked him what had happened
He listened to me, but kept crying nonstop
Until finally he looked at me and said
I will weep for the passion of Jesus

For Love, Love is not loved. Happiness cannot be found this way
We must return to Jesus, the love I want to love

This stranger only spoke of the Passion
And wore a cross-shaped garment
His arm held a piece of wood
A poor man's violin singing the love of Jesus

We love so many things in this world
Money, pleasures, fame, and power
Everything, except what is most lovable
Everything, except the one who loves us the most

Often, looking at a world so sad
The image of the poor man from Assisi gently returns to my thoughts
And with him, I feel like shouting