THE BIRTHPLACE

Send Gabriel to me, send him Lord,

Let him say t o me, “greetings, oh thou highly favored”’

Let this greeting, leave me troubled,

Let him then say to me, “be not afraid”,

Let me give birth to a kin of David.

No, let me be José,

Joseph, of course.

Fall in love with pregnant lass,

Taking her to the city with my ass,

To the inn.

Or rather, let me be the inn,

That has no room for him.

Wait! Mmmmh,

Let me be the manger,

For so long I have been in danger,

In danger of being thrown away,

As the hay, on my sides perfectly lay,

The birthplace of a king,

Who was, is, and is to be,

Born in me.

Befado