Devagar ( O Santo é de Barro)

Whoever is happy in love, raise your finger
and answer me without fear if it's true
Who has drunk from this water and bathed in the river
knows the taste they felt, the mark that remained
When passion runs deep inside us
there are so many illusions for just one dreamer
While the head doesn't know, the heart doesn't feel
the wandering body sails in seas of love

Slowly because the saint is made of clay,
slowly because he can fall