Caminhos Alternativos
Zé Pinto
Alternative Paths
If you plant the rice there,
if you plant the corn in the corner,
a way to produce,
for us to eat.
The first rooster crow,
already gets up from bed,
and the peasant blends
with the land he loves so much.
To love the field, when planting,
not to poison the field is to purify the bread.
To love the land, and plant seeds in it,
we cultivate it, and it cultivates us.
We cultivate it, and it cultivates us.
Tears turned into joy,
hunger turned into plenty,
and at the harvest festival,
guitar under the moonlight.
Collective work is harmony,
with the scent of nature,
the sun hides behind the mountains
and we light the bonfire.
To love the field, when planting,
not to poison the field is to purify the bread.
To love the land, and plant seeds in it,
we cultivate it, and it cultivates us.
We cultivate it, and it cultivates us.
When the land is poisoned,
the rain carries it to the river,
our poetry cries,
if life is hanging by a thread,
and it is meant to be lived,
with dreams, art, and beauty,
alternative paths
and food on the table.
To love the field, when planting,
not to poison the field is to purify the bread.
To love the land, and plant seeds in it,
we cultivate it, and it cultivates us.
We cultivate it, and it cultivates us.
