✕
Translation
Child
But what are these lips?
They kiss me, or almost
They take care of my life
Without asking me where I am
This man, what is it?
A caress with woollen glove
No innocence, no absence
That childhood
Makes so carefree
You finally become
A child that satisfies
A child of the Moon that chooses their own fate
You, as a whole,
A child so perfect
That will never learn how to dream
And share
I no longer can look at the sky
Without thinking of this dam
Of sensations and privations
And that's how my songs are born
I no longer can look at the sky
Without thinking of this dam
Of sensations and privations
And that's the only way I write my songs
I no longer can look at the sky
Without thinking of this dam
Of sensations and privations
And that's how my songs are born
Don Juan✕
Comments
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About translator
This work has been done by Alma Barroca. In case you want to use it elsewhere, please ask for permission - if given, my name must be always mentioned as the author. If I find my works being reprinted without permission I will request for it to be removed.