(Verse 1) We walked back in the quiet, measured light of streetlamps, When the evening rekindled the fog of the neighborhoods, Our knees stained with gold, with grass, and with dust, And our pockets heavy with chipped and battered marbles. We trapped the air on the faithful ribbons Of cassettes with a murmur a bit hoarse and shy, Waiting in the silence, motionless beside them, For the telephone to ring in the shadowy home. Today the child brushes against an insatiable window, Causing a giant universe to shift with a single gesture; They know everything about the earth in the hollow of the intangible, Yet taste less often the wind of a wandering step. (Chorus) Oh, vanished youth at the edges of the shadow, Children of the twilight and of endless evenings, You whose heart beat beneath the dark stars, While the present rushes forward and grows! We dreamed in secret of the velvet of constellations, They now stare into the blue of muffled pixels; But deep within those eyes carried away by illusion, It is the very same spark and the very same broad daylight. (Verse 2) We brought back to life the age and iron of bicycles By the strength of our wrists, with bits and pieces, While they gather the gold of sap and recipes At the end of an invisible wire and a simple tap. We had our cardboard boxes with worn edges, And those heavy cartridges we blew on with a breath, They carry worlds without doors or museums In the sparkling, cold palm of their hands. We folded our confessions onto fragile paper To make a secret we kept tightly guarded; They entrust their sighs to the fleeting flash of a wire, A heart on borrowed time that fades and disappears. (Chorus) Oh, vanished youth at the edges of the shadow, Children of the twilight and of endless evenings, You whose heart beat beneath the dark stars, While the present rushes forward and grows! We dreamed in secret of the velvet of constellations, They now stare into the blue of muffled pixels; But deep within those eyes carried away by illusion, It is the very same spark and the very same broad daylight. (Bridge) Every century laments and weeps along its path What it believes it has seen slip through its fingers; Yet childhood, eternal and fragile dove, Still seeks the caress in the hollow of the falling world. (Final Chorus) Children of yesteryear with sublime footprints, You sowed gold along the paths, beneath the roofs. And those of today build the abysses Of a secret future we did not know. The scenery tears apart and changes its posture, Songs and games fade away one by one; But the child remains a star in its own altitude, No matter the silence or the century of the day...
