Quantas Cores o Vento Tem

You think I'm a savage
And you know the world
But I can't believe
I can't believe

That a savage can be
If you don't see around you
Around you
You think this land belongs to you

That the world is a dead being,
But you'll see
That every stone, plant, or creature
Is alive and has a soul, is a being

You only value people
Who think like you without opposing
But follow the footsteps of a stranger
And you'll have a thousand splendid surprises

Have you ever heard a wolf Howling under the blue moonlight
Or why does a Lynx laugh with disdain
Do you know how to sing with the colors of the mountain
And paint with how many colors the wind has
And paint with how many colors the wind has

Come discover the forest trails
Taste the sweet blackberry and its flavor
Roll in the midst of such richness
And not want to inquire about its value

I am the sister of the river and the wind
The heron, the otter are the same as me
We live so connected to each other
In this arc, in this endless circle
How tall the tree is
If you cut it down, no one will know

You will never hear the wolf Under the blue moon
What does it matter
The color of someone's skin
We have to sing with the voices of the mountain
And paint with how many colors the wind has
But you will only succeed
To possess this land
If you paint it with
How many colors the wind has