O Bêbado e a Equilibrista

The afternoon fell like a viaduct
And a drunkard dressed in mourning
Reminded me of Charlie Chaplin

The moon, like the owner of the brothel
Asked each cold star
For a rented shine

And clouds in the blotter of the sky
Sucked tortured stains
What a suffocation!
Crazy, the drunkard with a bowler hat
Made a thousand irreverences
For the night of Brazil, my Brazil

Dreaming of the return of Henfil's brother
With so many people who left
In a rocket's tail

Our gentle motherland cries
Marias and Clarisses cry
On Brazil's soil

But I know that such a poignant pain
Shall not be in vain
Hope dances
On the tightrope with an umbrella
And with each step on this line
One can get hurt

Too bad, the tightrope walker hope
Knows that every artist's show
Must go on