Rosa Vermelha

Looking at this world He saw a great crowd
Walking alone, with nothing in hand
His life was a red rose nailed to the Cross
Those who passed by Him felt compassion

The rose withering, bleeding
Draining in pain
Losing color, breathless
But its perfume clings to the hand that crushed it
And the one who hurt it
Granted forgiveness

Now his blood shedding, falling to the ground
Three days dying, oh vile solitude
On the third day the world filled with flowers,
And the Red Rose sprouted again

Jesus is the Lily of the Valleys, Rose of Sharon
Even his thorns are marks of love
Now He lives to plant a great garden
If you want, you will be a flower
A flower...