Waters of March (Portuguese: Águas de Março) is a song composed by Brazilian composer Antônio Carlos Jobim. In this article, I examine the meaning and significance of its lyrics. Rather than proceeding as a linear narrative as most songs do, the lyrics form a collage of unrelated images. Jobim reflects on life through this unconventional style, comparing it to nature and the passage of seasons. I highly recommend listening to the song before reading on. Though many artists have covered it, I am particularly fond of Jobim's original English version and Art Garfunkel’s cover. The lyrics for the latter are listed below.
A stick, a stone, it's the end of the road
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun
The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
The nod of the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all
It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of a slope
It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the end of the strain, it's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a sling-shot stone
A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The shot of a gun in the dead of the night
A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud
Afloat, adrift, a flight, a wing
A cock, a quail, the promise of spring
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle, a sting, a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain
A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart
A stick, a stone, the end of the load
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A night, a death, the end of the run
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart
It's the rest of a stump, it's a little alone
It's a sliver of glass, it is life, it's the sun
It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun
The oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
The nod of the wood, the song of a thrush
The wood of the wind, a cliff, a fall
A scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all
It's the wind blowing free, it's the end of a slope
It's a beam, it's a void, it's a hunch, it's a hope
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the end of the strain, it's the joy in your heart
The foot, the ground, the flesh and the bone
The beat of the road, a sling-shot stone
A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light
The shot of a gun in the dead of the night
A mile, a must, a thrust, a bump
It's a girl, it's a rhyme, it's a cold, it's the mumps
The plan of the house, the body in bed
And the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud
Afloat, adrift, a flight, a wing
A cock, a quail, the promise of spring
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the promise of life, it's the joy in your heart
A point, a grain, a bee, a bite
A blink, a buzzard, a sudden stroke of night
A pin, a needle, a sting, a pain
A snail, a riddle, a wasp, a stain
A snake, a stick, it is John, it is Joe
A fish, a flash, a silvery glow
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the promise of life in your heart, in your heart
A stick, a stone, the end of the load
The rest of a stump, a lonesome road
A sliver of glass, a life, the sun
A night, a death, the end of the run
And the riverbank talks of the Waters of March
It's the end of all strain, it's the joy in your heart
The difficulties of living
Jobim emphasizes life’s struggle and suffering through images of physical adversity and pain. For instance, “a stick, a stone”, “a scratch, a lump”, “it's a cold, it's the mumps,” or “a pin, a needle, a sting, a pain.” The suffering is also mental, with feelings of isolation such as “it’s a little alone” and “a lonesome road.” Furthermore, monotony and exhaustion are indicated by lines like “the beat of the road.” Life’s adversity occurs through physical and mental obstacles, such as “the car that got stuck, it's the mud, it's the mud” or “a riddle.” Lastly, the lyrics’ disorganized structure mimics the chaos of life. The invocation of positive, negative, or neutral images occurs without obvious pattern, suggesting that life is unpredictable.
The inevitability of death
Jobim hints at the fragility and impermanence of life, comparing it to “a sliver of glass.” This analogy suggests beauty, yet delicacy. Numerous lines elude to our eventual end, such as “the end of the road,” “a cliff, a fall” “the end of a slope,” “a void,” or “the end of all strain.” Some of these images indicate a sudden death, while others suggest a more gradual decline. Furthermore, Jobim refers to “the wind blowing free,” which is conventionally symbolic of change and the passage of time, emphasizing our limited lifespans.
Despite our eventual end, Jobim reminds us of the beauty and value of life. Many images depict the vitality of nature, such as “the oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush, the nod of the wood, the song of a thrush” or “a fish, a flash, a silvery glow.” Human birth is also referenced, “it’s a girl.” Lastly, there are optimistic suggestions of a positive future: “the promise of spring,” “it’s a hope,” and “the plan of the house.”
Despite our eventual end, Jobim reminds us of the beauty and value of life. Many images depict the vitality of nature, such as “the oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush, the nod of the wood, the song of a thrush” or “a fish, a flash, a silvery glow.” Human birth is also referenced, “it’s a girl.” Lastly, there are optimistic suggestions of a positive future: “the promise of spring,” “it’s a hope,” and “the plan of the house.”
Life and death equivalence
Jobim often equates life and death. For instance, “it is life, it’s the sun” is immediately followed by “It is night, it is death, it's a trap, it's a gun.” Likewise, “a life, the sun” precedes “a night, a death, the end of the run.”
More broadly, Jobim compares creation and destruction. “A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light,” an image of construction and optimism, is contrasted against “the shot of a gun in the dead of the night,” a picture of destruction. The light/darkness contrast reinforces this intention. Overall, these comparisons argue that life/creation requires death/destruction; we should think of these as different parts of the same fundamental process.
The equivalence of life and death is also explored using the traditional metaphor of the seasons, embodied by the titled “Waters of March.” The meaning of this term is quite different in the northern and southern hemispheres, a duality which nicely complements the theme. In the southern hemisphere, this rain marks the end of the summer and the beginning of the colder season. This is the intention in the original Portuguese version. However, in the northern hemisphere (and the English version of the lyrics), the melting of snow in March announces the start of spring. Therefore, the Waters of March dually refers to a destructive force bringing winter and death, and a constructive force bringing spring and birth. These waters offer “the promise of spring,” “the promise of life” and “the joy in your heart,” yet paradoxically also bring “the end of all strain.” While the latter may initially sound positive, we can recognize it as a reference to death. The suggestion is that the death/destruction associated with winter is required for the birth/creation of the summer.
Other artists and writers have also noticed the duality between creation and destruction. Pablo Picasso summarized this elegantly, “every act of creation is first an act of destruction.” Likewise, T. S. Eliot wrote, “in my beginning is my end.”
More broadly, Jobim compares creation and destruction. “A truckload of bricks in the soft morning light,” an image of construction and optimism, is contrasted against “the shot of a gun in the dead of the night,” a picture of destruction. The light/darkness contrast reinforces this intention. Overall, these comparisons argue that life/creation requires death/destruction; we should think of these as different parts of the same fundamental process.
The equivalence of life and death is also explored using the traditional metaphor of the seasons, embodied by the titled “Waters of March.” The meaning of this term is quite different in the northern and southern hemispheres, a duality which nicely complements the theme. In the southern hemisphere, this rain marks the end of the summer and the beginning of the colder season. This is the intention in the original Portuguese version. However, in the northern hemisphere (and the English version of the lyrics), the melting of snow in March announces the start of spring. Therefore, the Waters of March dually refers to a destructive force bringing winter and death, and a constructive force bringing spring and birth. These waters offer “the promise of spring,” “the promise of life” and “the joy in your heart,” yet paradoxically also bring “the end of all strain.” While the latter may initially sound positive, we can recognize it as a reference to death. The suggestion is that the death/destruction associated with winter is required for the birth/creation of the summer.
Other artists and writers have also noticed the duality between creation and destruction. Pablo Picasso summarized this elegantly, “every act of creation is first an act of destruction.” Likewise, T. S. Eliot wrote, “in my beginning is my end.”
RSS Feed