Segue o Seco

The dry cattle
In the dry flood
The dry thunder
In the dry hoe

Follow the dry without realizing that the path is dry
Without realizing that the thorn is dry
Without realizing that dry is the Being Sun

Without realizing that some dry thorn will dry up
And the water that realizes will be a dry shot
And it will dry up your dry destiny

Oh rain, come tell me
If I can go up there to pour you
Oh rain, pay attention
If the people up there live in loneliness

If it ends up not getting used to
If it ends up standing still silent
If it ends up quietly crying
If it ends up somewhat abandoned

It could be tears of St. Peter
Or maybe a great love crying
It could be the unbuttoned sky
It could be spilled coconut