Campo Branco

White field my sorrows that dried sorrowfully
All the good we had was the rain was the love
There's nothing, we both will suffer like this
Beautiful field in such bad weather
You without rain and the sadness in me
I ask God, my great God of Abraham
To pluck the feathers from my heart
From this dry land in longing and affliction
All good comes from God
Who has good praises God for their good
Who doesn't have asks God for what comes
Through the shadow of the Gavião River valley
The herds await the thunderstorm to rain
There's nothing in my heart either
I'll have lightning and thunder
My soul will flourish
When the beloved, the awaited thunderstorm arrives
Before the season, the mares will have
I know I'll still see mares giving birth unintentionally
Tomorrow at dawn
Later, but I know I'll have
My day will still dawn
And this time of arrival is near
Seven aruêra shells sang for me
Tatarena will spin, will bloom
Yellow just once
For her just once