Pássaros Do Sul

The flock scattered
rising from the grove
from the void that remained
at the end of their exile
wings open wounds
in the gray of dusk
taming the agony
of the darkening day

They darken the riverbank
and the green of the field
and pass through the threshing floor
where the sun had landed
in the dewdrops
luminous and flickering
refreshing the weariness
and sleeping for a moment

Southern birds
flock with loose wings
bringing melodies
to sing to the girls
on nights of pilgrimage
on nights of pilgrimage

in the flutter of dawn
my sorrow sways
the sky in disarray
bursts blue in the water
and the birds wake up
in a peasant's dream
and surrender to the south
from the cold of the night

it's time to leave
and the color on the horizon
darkens the farewell
and the bubbling of the fountain
wings open wounds
in the dust the sun soothes
in a restless flutter
that refreshes my soul

southern birds
flock with loose wings
bringing melodies
to sing to the girls
on nights of pilgrimage
on nights of pilgrimage