Vida

Maybe the words will leave me
or maybe you will leave me
or maybe only the years will put me
at the mercy of some wave,
at the mercy of some wave.
While all this reaches me,
which must reach me by force,
maybe I still have time
to steal from life
and thus fill my baggage.
While all this reaches me... life, life!

I still see sometimes,
sometimes I still see
my child eyes searching,
beyond the glass frost,
a color in the north wind.
The wise voices have told me
that it was useless to tire myself;
but a dream never tires me,
and despite my beard
I am a child in my gaze.
Sometimes I still see... life, life!

If I grow old in words,
if I grow old in words
please close the door
and flee from the longing
of a voice that is fading.
It should not make me sad,
it will not make me sad
and I will go from branch to branch
to hear what the new birds of my landscape sing.
It will not make me sad... it's life, life!

If death comes to find me,
if death comes to find me
it has permission to enter the house,
but let it know from now on
that I will never be able to love it.
And if I have to go with it,
and if I have to go with it,
whatever is left of me,
be it worms or ashes
or a chord of my journey,
I want them to sing this sign... life, life!

Maybe the words will leave me
or maybe you will leave me
or maybe only the years will put me
at the mercy of some wave,
at the mercy of some wave.
While all this reaches me... life, life!
While all this reaches me... life, life!