Perfeita Alegria

The harsh winter afternoon falls, Francisco and Leão walk on the snow
They’re heading back to Santa Maria, hungry and cold, at the end of another day
Friar Leão walks ahead, quick on his feet
Friar Francisco calls out to him and says
Friar Leão, take note if you want to know what perfect joy is

If we have the grace of God, to preach the Gospel and the Cross
And through our deeds and examples, we can lead others to Jesus
And convert men to faith, even those with wicked hearts
Friar Leão, this still isn’t perfect joy

Imagine Leão, if God granted us the grace to heal everyone
To make the blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear, and the mute speak
And if even the demons fled at the command of our gaze
And if we could raise the dead, this isn’t perfect joy

And if we spoke all languages with the gift of clear communication
Transforming kingdoms of war into kingdoms of peace
And if we knew all the sciences, and the secrets of land and sea
Friar Leão, this still isn’t perfect joy

But then, Father Francisco, what is perfect joy?

If we arrive at our convent and knock quickly, hoping to get in
And the doorkeeper inside, instead of opening, starts to talk
Who are you that you disturb us at this hour?
It’s us, your brothers, Friar Leão and Francisco, who’ve come and want to enter

And, Friar Leão, if the doorkeeper says it’s a lie and won’t open
That we find another place in some corner
And if we, in front of the closed door, under the night and falling snow, keep our peace
This is perfect joy

But if we insist in tears that he open and have pity on us
For hungry and in need in the night, we have no comfort or place
And if then the doorkeeper comes out, wielding his staff and shouts
And strikes you and me, leaving us on the ground crying

And Friar Leão, if it’s God who does this, leaving us in the night and on the cross
If we understand that this abandonment imitates Jesus
And if we, in front of the closed door, under the night and falling snow
Keep our peace, this is perfect joy