Lyrics of 'Cultos' by Silvestre Kuhlmann

Sábios, ajuntai os alfarrábios;
Doutos, recolhei os livros soltos,
E uma grande montanha tereis.

Amassai feito banana a curta cultura humana,
Espremei desesperados gota a gota
Os postulados, teoremas e tratados de uma vez.

E vede se esse sumo mata a sede devida,
Se esse sumo mata a morte sem norte nem vida,
E vereis toda a ciência congruente que ajuntais
Impotente contra a ausência de eterna paz.

Aprendei a tabuada
Sem complexo de doutor
Que jamais uma coisa criada
É maior que o Criador.

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