Eu já vivo enjoado

I have already grown weary
of living here on earth.
Mom, I’m going to the moon.
I talked it over with my woman:
she replied,
“We will go if God is willing.
We’ll build a little hut
out of grass,
and tomorrow, at seven,
we’ll have breakfast.”
I, who never believed,
will never come to believe
that the moon comes to the earth
and the earth goes to the sky.
All that is talk
for those who eat without working.
You, sir, my friend,
listen closely to my song:
Those who have, have no envy.
Those who do not have the envy,
my friend.

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