Sonhos Sonhos São
Chico Buarque
Dreams Dreams Are
Black clouds
You bite my shoulder in full turbulence
Nervous flight attendant asks for calm
I caress your breasts and touch
Exalted heart
Then you take off the glove for me to read your hand
And your palm has no lines
I know it's a dream
I'm uncomfortable, in a strange body
With Latin American rulers
Noticing my burning gaze
In a distant direction
They all think I see some salvation
But no, it's you I see on the hill
Which corner did I blindly turn
And fell in Cairo, or Lima, or Calcutta
What language is this in which I curse
And the wall echoes
In Lisbon
The people make noise in my castle
Pale economists ask for calm
I lead your smooth hand
Up a spiral staircase
And at the top of the tower I show you the clothesline
Where my soul swings freely
In Macau, Maputo, Mecca, Bogota
What dream is this from which one does not leave
And in which legs are exchanged
And one falls and rises in another dream
I know it's a dream
Not because I throw pearls from the balcony
And the legion of hungry people fight over them
Not because our jet flies
Grazing cathedrals
But because in truth you no longer want me
In fact, you were never mine in life