Your silhouette is walking
with the sad and sleeping soul,
and the aurora is nothing new
for your big eyes and for your forehead;
already the sky and its stars
they were silent, far away and dead
for your foreign mind.
They spoke to us once when children,
when life is whole,
that the future, that when big,
there died moments,
they sowed their seed
and we were afraid, we trembled,
and in this our lives went.
Each one clinging to their gods,
products of a whole story,
they model and destroy them
and according to that they order their lives;
They put coins on their foreheads,
in their long hands they hang them
padlocks, signs and bars.
Only among all we can make this a better place :)