O Bêbado e a Equilibrista

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

The Moon
Like the owner of a brothel
Asked each cold star
For a rental shine

And clouds
There in the blotter of the sky
Sucked tortured stains
What a suffocation!

Crazy
The drunk with a bowler hat
Made a thousand irreverences
For the night of Brazil

My Brazil that dreams
Of the return of Henfil's brother
With so many people who left
In a rocket tail

Cry
Our gentle Motherland cries
Marias and Clarisses cry
On the soil of Brazil

But I know, oh, I know
That a pain so poignant
Shall not be in vain
Hope

Dances
On the tightrope of an umbrella
And in every step of this line
One can get hurt

Bad luck
The tightrope walker hope
Knows that every artist's show
Must go on