Bird of the city I'm a little bird away from the nest. And so I live in this city alone Posts and threads are perches and I go my way A polluted place, hidden and full of thorn Place where nobody cares Here I dispute my song with the sound of smoke Hope is not dead yet Watching iron fireflies lined up and distrust I am careful and I do not run, I do not know if they are animals It does not seem ferocious that race of humans And protest alone, how unequal I do not toy and fleeing from the cages of tyrants Cold and red tiled urban backyards Where the puddle on the floor turns a mirror Mirroring the blue sky and the despair of being just one Bird that flew from here and ran away, or got old I'm a big city bird Who flies without leaving the place. Who lives in the eyes of those who do not understand That here is not a good place to live The joy of being free and able to fly These bars got me And the distance from the sky, I can only look Together and inside what I've been and am I protest without judgment, imagining the ocean I wanted to find other souls who bring light And I'm rarely mistaken. I live without complaining and singing is what drives me And what I expect from life in this city. It's never to be one and so I hope May my mistake be naive Being in this iron cage I'm just a little bird in the big city. Who flies without leaving the place. Being just one that does not hide Behind the sound of a sob for not being able to sing Dib
