By AND I DIED SMILING Belo Horizonte, 14-01-1977 One day, a pretty bird With a broken wing, sang for me. I found that effort all pretty, Then I thought: if the man was thus? For a poor he understood me bird. I was sad, without nothing, nobody for close participating of my nostalgia. I cried. when they had dried the tears, I started to cry blood.
Soon I stopped to cry Therefore had finished the tears. Also the blood was esvaiu and I died for the half. A thing I only can affirm: He is that of as much sadness, I died smiling. my world finished In a pretty innocent smile, In a pretty one sings of bird. nostalgia finished. Until nostalgia it smiled Illuminating the sadness, As the sun illuminates the land In one morning of summer. I died smiling, Of sadness and solitude.