They didn't know the sea
And it seemed sadder to them
Than on TV, birds from Portugal
Without direction or birdseed
Nor papers

He said to her, let's go
Where, she responded
Crying

Far from the main altar
On the poor little sailboat
Of a bottle

Strip off the indigo
Pen of the soul of nard
With a shirt

Give me back the month of April
They were called Abelardo and Eloisa
Bastard archangels of haste

They lit up the dawn dead from the cold
They covered themselves with the sensibility of delirium
Yours and mine back home
What emptiness anxiety leaves
What shame their parents will have

Without wings to fly
Fugitives from school
And from the bed, birds from Portugal
Barely two minutes
Bad reputation

Then the civil guard
Confiscated their sweat
And their smile, the postcards from Estoril
Without an inn, without shields
And without a visa

They were called Abelardo and Eloisa
They dived against Everest
And drowned
No one taught them to deserve
The protection of the Virgin of Solitude
How small is the light of the lighthouses

They dived against Everest
And drowned
No one taught them to deserve
The protection of the Virgin of Solitude
How small is the light of the lighthouses
Of those who dream of freedom

CONSULTER LES PAROLES ORIGINALES