Dor
Meu bisavô me falou
Que no tempo da escravidão
Era dor muita dor tanta dor
Morriam de dor os negro meus irmãos
Dor, dor, dor
O sangue jorra no chicote do feitor
O negro morre de saudade sem amor
Dona Isabel sua lei não adiantou
O negro morre de Paris a Salvador
O sangue jorra na caneta do doutor
A raça negra não nasceu para ter senhor
Minha alma é livre o berimbau me libertou
My great-grandfather told me
That in the time of slavery
It was pain, so much pain, so much pain
My brothers, black people, died of pain
Pain, pain, pain
Blood spurts on the overseer's whip
The black man dies of longing without love
Dona Isabel, your law was of no use
Black people die from Paris to Salvador
Blood spurts into the doctor's pen
The black race was not born to have a master
My soul is free, the berimbau freed me
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Song Details
- Imported from Letras CDs Completos ZIP