A Mulher Da Erva

Old woman of the brown earth
Thinks it's already a full moon
Candle that the wave condemns
Made in pieces on the sand
Torn skirt
Climbing the road
Still the night
Breaking comes
The woman
Holding in her arms
Fresh herb
Supreme good
The turtledove sings
In a thicket
The woman goes
My lord
In this journey
I don't even remember
The dawn
There are those who live
Without noticing anything
There are those who die
Without knowing
Burnt old woman
Scorched old woman
Sells the fruit
If you want to eat

In the evening
The woman reaches
Who buys from her feast
To give
To the gentle goat
Fresh herb
The color of the sea
On the sidewalk
A black stain
Covered everything
And stayed there
Go, old woman
In the black skirt
Flower that in the wind
Fell on the ground
In winter
You will have plenty
Of the herb outside
Supreme good
The turtledove sings
Your bitterness
Young morning
.. never comes again