O Homem Velho

The old man leaves life and death behind
Head held high, he follows his path and never, never again
The great mirror that is the world would dare to reflect his signs
The old man is the king of animals

Loneliness is now solid, a stone in the sun
The lines of destiny in his hands have been erased
His soul is saturated with poetry, soul, and rock'n'roll
Things migrate and he serves as a lighthouse

Flesh, art burns, the afternoon falls
Into the abyss of corners
The light breeze brings the fleeting scent
Of the girls' sex

Cold light, his hair has the sadness of neon
Beauties, pains, and joys pass without a sound
I see the old man laughing at a bend in the road to Hebron
And with his gaze, all colors change tone

Children, movies, sayings, books like a whirlwind
Spread him beyond the illusion of his personal being
But he hurts and shines uniquely, an individual, a wonder like no other
He already has the courage to know he is immortal