A Caneta e a Enxada

Once a pen went out for a stroll in the backcountry
It met a hoe, working on a farm
The humble hoe greeted it with a nod
But the arrogant pen refused to shake its hand
And just to be rude, it gave a reprimand

The pen said to the hoe, "Don’t come near me, alright?
You’re dirty from the ground, covered in filthy dirt
Do you know who you’re talking to? Look at your place
And don’t forget the distance between us, face to face

I’m the golden pen that writes for the notary
I write for the government, the law of the constitution
I wrote on linen paper, for the rich and the barons
I’m only in the hands of the masters, the men of high position

The hoe replied: "Indeed, I live in the dirt
To provide food and clothes for your boss
I was here first, almost since the time of Adam
If it weren’t for my labor, no one would have education

Get lost, you proud pen, shame of this generation
Your high nobility is nothing but pretension
You say you write everything, but there’s one thing you don’t
It’s the beautiful word called education!"