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The years pass, yes, life doesn't;
the world explodes beautifully around.
If the mortal heart stops beating,
at that moment there are those who jumped to live.

The years pass, yes, the fire doesn't;
the fire will return in the children of the sun.
If the chest went out, with a senile breath,
the great fire will come in a hundred thousand.

There are those who need a love song,
there are those who need a song of friendship,
there are those who need to rise to the sun,
to sing the greatest freedom.

There are those who need a song of peace,
there are those who need the song of a rifle,
there are those who need one more evidence,
to have the reason to live.

The years pass, yes, the beauty is there;
the beauty is inviting to go and take it.
If the dream aged, it was sad for him,
the beauty will never be his again.