A Ovelha Pedida

Ninety-nine sheep go
Secure in the pen;
But one of them has strayed
From the pastoral fold
The wanderer in the mountains of terror,
Far from the faithful shepherd,
Far from the faithful shepherd.

"With the submissive flock, O good Shepherd,
Will you not be content?"
"The wanderer is mine," he replied,
"The fleeting one belongs to me.
I will go to the desert to seek
The sheep I hear crying in pain,
The sheep I hear crying in pain."

No redeemed one imagined
How dark the darkness,
How deep the waters it passed through,
Bringing salvation.
And when it went to help
The wanderer was perishing,
The wanderer was perishing.

"Along the road from where you come,
What blood do I see there?"
"I sought the sheep with love,
My blood I shed."
"I see a wound in your hand."
"Anguish filled my heart,
Anguish filled my heart."

Cheers come from the mountain!
It's the voice of the good Shepherd!
Resounding in triumphant notes
The victorious psalm!
And the angels sing in the heavens:
The wanderer has returned to God,
The wanderer has returned to God!