O Ouro e a Madeira

Gold sinks into the sea
Wood floats above
Oyster is born from the mud
Making fine pearl

I wouldn't want to be the sea
The spring was enough for me
Much less be the rose
Just the thorn
I wouldn't want to be the path
But the shortcut
Much less be the rain
Just the dew

I wouldn't want to be the day
Only the dawn
Much less be the field
The grain is enough for me
I wouldn't want to be life
But the moment
Much less be a concert
Just the song