Aline Barros - Arca De Noé Lyrics
Lyrics
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré (É, é, é)
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré
Tinha até um porco-espinho Cuidado com ele pra não se espetar O macaco bem maroto Cutuca a preguiça que nem bola dá Um casal de cada bicho Era o maior buchicho dentro da embarcação A hiena deu risada Da onça-pintada de papo pro ar E o grilo se sentia O cantor famoso daquele lugar Todo dia a passarada Animava a bicharada cantando: tra, lá, lá, lá!
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré (É, é, é)
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré
Tinha até um porco-espinho Cuidado com ele pra não se espetar O macaco bem maroto Cutuca a preguiça que nem bola dá Um casal de cada bicho Era o maior buchicho dentro da embarcação A hiena deu risada Da onça-pintada de papo pro ar E o grilo se sentia O cantor famoso daquele lugar Todo dia a passarada Animava a bicharada cantando: tra, lá, lá, lá!
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré (É, é, é)
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré (É, é, é)
A Arca de Noé Eu vou contar como é que é Era um barco gigante Coube até o elefante, a girafa e o jacaré (é!)
Video
Aline Barros - Arca de Noé - DVD Aline Barros e Cia 3
Meaning & Inspiration
Aline Barros presents a children’s narrative here that, at first glance, sits comfortably in the realm of nursery rhymes and Sunday school simplicity. It is an account of the vessel that carried the remnant through the deluge. But when we look at the mechanics of the Ark, we are looking at the mechanics of preservation.
The lyric, "Um casal de cada bicho / Era o maior buchicho dentro da embarcação," strikes me as deceptively light. In the Hebrew account of Genesis 6-9, the Ark is not merely a zoo; it is a claustrophobic box of judgment and grace. The "buchicho"—the noise, the commotion—is the sound of the Imago Dei’s stewards overseeing the continuation of life while the world outside is systematically dismantled by the waters of the flood.
We often sanitize this event, stripping away the harshness of the divine judgment to focus on the cute animals. Yet, the theology of the Ark is fundamentally about the preservation of life in a state of suspended animation. It is the original vessel of salvation. If the Ark were simply a place of harmony, it would misrepresent the nature of a fallen creation. These animals—the lion, the hyena, the predatory jaguar—are forced into a proximity that would otherwise lead to death. Within those walls, the natural order is suppressed by the command of the Creator. It is a space where the usual rules of survival are replaced by the rule of the Covenant.
When I hear the playfulness of "A Arca de Noé," I find myself reflecting on the tension between the mercy that spared these creatures and the righteous fury that necessitated their enclosure. We see this same tension in the New Testament; the Ark is a shadow of the Baptismal waters described in 1 Peter 3:20-21. It is not the water that saves, but the God who brings us through it.
There is a restlessness in the song that captures a reality we often overlook: Noah and his family lived in that "buchicho" for a long time. It wasn't a peaceful excursion; it was a confinement. It was a period of waiting, listening to the rain, and trusting that the one who shut the door (Genesis 7:16) was also the one who would open it.
Maybe the "grilo" acting as a "cantor famoso" isn't just a bit of whimsy. Perhaps it represents the irrepressible nature of creation, singing even when the world it knew has been washed away, clinging to the promise of dry land. It forces us to ask: do we trust the Architect when the wood is creaking, the water is rising, and the company inside is chaotic? There is a certain gravity in that preservation that Barros’s track invites us to consider, even through the eyes of a child. We are all, in a sense, waiting for the dove to return.