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era o outono do ano
sombras voadas que varrem perto
o céu
eu arremessei minha alma ao ar como um vĂ´o do falcĂŁo
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
em setembro
a festa real foi feita
o mestre de destinies humanos Ă© mim
eu estou cantando-lhe
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
com o por do sol
babylon -- onde eu vou sonhar

 



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