Pájaros de Portugal

They didn't know the sea
And it seemed sadder to them than on TV
Birds of Portugal
Without direction, nor birdseed, nor papers

He said to her: Let's go
Where to?, she replied crying
Far from the main altar
On the poor sailboat of a bottle
Strip off the indigo soul's fold
Long with a shirt
Give me back the month of April
They were called Abelard and Eloisa
Hasty bastard archangels

They lit up the dawn dead of cold
They covered themselves with the sensibility of delirium
Yours and mine back home
What emptiness anxiety leaves
What shame their parents will have

Without wings to fly
Fugitives from school and bed
Birds of Portugal
Just two minutes, bad reputation
Then the civil guard confiscated from them
The sweat and the smile
The postcards from Estoril, without lodging
Without shields and without visa
They were called Abelard and Eloisa

They dived against Everest and drowned
No one taught them to deserve shelter
From the Virgin of Solitude
How small is the light of the lighthouses!

They dived against Everest and drowned
No one taught them to deserve shelter
From the Virgin of Solitude
How small is the light of the lighthouses
For those who dream of freedom