Day after day,
time passes by—
the streets always alike—
the same houses.
Day after day,
and all is as it was before—
step after step—
the same life.
And the eyes search about
for a future seen in dreams.
But dreams are only dreams
and the future is now almost the past.
Day after day,
life passes by.
Tomorrow will be a day much like yesterday.
The ship has already left the port
and, from the coast, it appears to be a distant dot.
This evening, someone also
comes back home disillusioned—slowly, slowly.
Day after day,
life passes by—
and hope now is a habit.