Quando o dia do meu fim chegar
Só quero que me leve para queimar.
E jogue as cinzas bem alto no céu.
Assim vou eu para as nuvens voar.
Voará para cima com os ventos do ar.
Voará para alto nunca vou parar.
Como os pássaros que não tem nem lar,
No chão, por favor, não me enterrar.
Quero estar sempre livre para eu viajar.
I composed this little ditty on the return trip from Crato this Sunday while not feeling so great in the back seat of the car and wondering if we'd ever get home... Portuguese is great for rhyming with all the -ar verbs. Here's a loose translation...
When the day of my end arrives go ahead and burn me.
And throw the ashes high into the sky.
So I go to the clouds fly, fly, fly.
Fly up with the winds of the air.
Fly uphigh, I'll never stop.
Like the birds that don't have a home
In the ground, please do not bury me.
I want to always be free for me to travel along.
If it seems a little morbid, don't think about it too much. Burn in Portuguese just rhymed so nicely with all the other phrases and it would save a lot of money! Besides where in the world would I be buried? Fortaleza? Winston-Salem? Vinton? Just throw me up in the air and let the winds that care of that decision was my thought as I watched the fields go by on the way home....