Choro das Águas

This crying of mine doesn't fit in my chest
It burns inside and rolls down my face
Wets on the outside and ruins the disguise
Cleanses this heart

This crying of mine is very painful
It cuts off my speech, covers my ears
It hurts my eyes with ground glass
Bleeds this heart

This crying of mine is the water's cry
That washes the tiles, that rolls in the gutters
That drips in the spouts and pours down on us
Drowns this heart.