Lyrics of Waters Of March - Marisa Monte, David Byrne

Waters Of March (original)

A stick, a stone, it’s the end of the road
É um resto de toco, it’s a little alone
It’s a sliver of glass, it is a life, it’s the sun
It is night, it is death, it’s a trap, it’s a gun
É peroba-do-campo, é um nó da madeira
Caingá, Candeia, é Matita Pereira
É madeira de vento, tombo da ribanceira
É o mistério profundo, é o queira ou não queira
É o vento ventando, é o fim da ladeira
É a viga, é o vão, festa da cumeeira
É a chuva chovendo, é conversa ribeira
Das águas de março, é o fim da canseira
The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
Passarinho na mão, pedra de atiradeira
É uma ave no céu, é uma ave no chão
É um regato, é uma fonte, é um pedaço de pão
É o fundo do poço, é o fim do caminho
No rosto o desgosto, é um pouco sozinho
A spare, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, a drop, the end of the tale
É um peixe, é um gesto, é uma prata brilhando
É a luz da manhã, é o tijolo chegando
A mile, é o dia, a thrust, a bump
It’s a girl, it’s a rhyme, it’s a cold, it’s the mumps
É o projeto da casa, é o corpo na cama
É o carro enguiçado, é a lama, é a lama
A drift, ponte, a flight, rã
Resto, a quail, promise of spring
And the river bank talks
Of the waters of March
It’s the promise of life
It’s the joy in your heart
A stick, a stone
It’s the end of the road
É um resto de toco
É um pouco sozinho
It’s a sliver of glass
It’s a life, it’s the sun
É a noite, é a morte
É o laço, é o anzol
It’s the plan of the house
It’s the body in bed
And the car that got stuck
It’s the mud, it’s the mud
É o projeto da casa, é o corpo na cama
É o carro enguiçado, é a lama, é a lama
São as águas de março fechando o verão
É a promessa de vida no meu coração
And the river bank talks
Of the waters of March
It’s the end of all strain
It’s the joy in your heart

(translation)

A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
It's a stump rest, it's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is a life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun
It's peroba-do-campo, it's a wood knot
Caingá, Candeia, is Matita Pereira
It's wind wood, falling from the bank
It's the deep mystery, whether you like it or not
It's the wind blowing, it's the end of the hill
It's the beam, it's the span, ridge party
It's raining rain, it's riverside conversation
From the waters of March, it's the end of the tiredness
The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
Bird in hand, sling stone
It's a bird in the sky, it's a bird on the ground
It's a stream, it's a fountain, it's a piece of bread
It's the rock bottom, it's the end of the road
On the face the disgust, it's a little lonely
A spare, a spike, a point, a nail
A drip, a drop, the end of the tale
It's a fish, it's a gesture, it's a shining silver
It's the morning light, it's the brick coming
A mile, it's the day, a thrust, a bump
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps
It's the project of the house, it's the body in the bed
It's the broken car, it's the mud, it's the mud
A drift, bridge, a flight, frog
Rest, aquail, promise of spring
And the river bank talks
Of the waters of March
It's the promise of life
It's the joy in your heart
A stick, a stone
It's the end of the road
It's a stump remnant
It's a little lonely
It's a sliver of glass
It's a life, it's the sun
It's night, it's death
It's the loop, it's the hook
It's the plan of the house
It's the body in bed
And the car that got stuck
It's the mud, it's the mud
It's the project of the house, it's the body in the bed
It's the broken car, it's the mud, it's the mud
It's the waters of March closing the summer
It's the promise of life in my heart
And the river bank talks
Of the waters of March
It's the end of all strain
It's the joy in your heart