Povo Que Lavas No Rio

People who wash in the river
Who cut with your axe
The boards of my coffin
There will be someone to defend you
Someone to buy your sacred land
But not your life

I ended up at the round table
Drinking from a bowl that hides
A kiss from hand to hand
It was the wine you gave me
Pure water, wild fruit
But not your life

Scents of heather and mud
I slept with them in bed
I had the same condition
People, people I belong to you
You gave me heights of incense
But not your life