Stop hiding yourself,
let the smile speak more than you.
We’re not eternal, we’re a kind of an irony of past times
that write these present times.
To control the words while this rain
fills our glasses, you’re drinking from mine.
Now we’re a trace of a short comet
on an everlasting journey around the Earth.
We’ll never stop losing our heads
for the life that awaits us,
for the nights of a serene night,
so that today we feel the time has come.
We’ll always seek the highest place
to look into a distance, far from the Earth,
to swing on a star,
so that we’d be like at home.
Let me tell you
that the air hardly fills our nose
and who knows where we’ll sit on branches to die of sleep,
to notice when, by our side, the world is born.
And we receive interferences
from a hostile, blazing sky,
images of land, sea and air
captured by our mind.
We’ll never stop losing our heads
for the life that awaits us,
for the nights of a serene night,
so that today we feel the time has come.
We’ll always seek the highest place
to look into a distance, far from the Earth,
to swing on a star,
so that we’d be like at home.