There are days when we're so mobile, so mobile, the faint wisps
as wind and chance. Perhaps
under another sky the glory we smile, life is clear
, undívaga and open like a sea.
And there are days when we're so fertile, as fertile as in April
the field, trembling with passion.
Under the influence of spiritual provident
rain forests soul is bursting with excitement.
And there are days when we're so sordid, so sordid,
as the dark bowels of a dark flint
night surprises usúgubres,
as at night crying lúbugres the pine forest.
The soul cries out in pain then
world and perhaps even God can comfort us. But there also
Oh Earth! One day, one day ...
they weighed anchor, never to return ...
One day
inevitable run winds one day and nobody can stop us!
