A Morte Saiu à Rua

Death went out on the street on a day like this
In that place without a name for any purpose
A red drop falls on the sidewalk
And a river of blood from an open chest flows

The wind that blows on the reeds of the cane field
And the sickle of a Portuguese harvester
And the sound of the anvil like a trumpet from heaven
Are saying everywhere the Painter has died

Your blood, Painter, demands another equal death
Only eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth is worth
To the murderous law, to the death that killed you
Your body belongs to the earth that embraced you

Here we affirm eye for an eye like this
That one day he who laughs last will laugh better
In the curve of the road to the graves dug in the ground
And roses of a nation will bloom in all