The night is coming
and the birds are flying,
they will sleep
and we will watch
at sunset
inside the lighthouse.
The nightingale will sing
when the moon comes
and then you will hear
a lullaby to sleep
and have beautiful dreams
all of them laughing.
The night is coming
and the birds are flying,
they will fall asleep
and at dawn
everyone will wake up
and then fly.
And we will wake up
after dreaming all night,
smiling for the birds,
these are rare moments,
at daybreak
full of euphoria.
Poem.
It was to be a kind of lullaby.
It was part of a story.
("O rouxinol vai cantar")
Edited on 28/12/17.
