I came here with the little one,
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what I had, with that tip of my lungs,
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what a simple air he is just looking for.
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I knew the world from those good books,
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what do my grandfather read. |
It was clear snow,
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he was a generous god, a time to make love.
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I just wanted to grow from good words,
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flowing from the mouth. |
Not the pain of widows,
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not a thousand misery, not a silent sob.
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I just wanted to graze a couple of horses
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there around the furrows on the threshold of the spring,
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I knew a world in which there is no quarrel.
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Put your kids to sleep
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just make them dream of horses,
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the heat of the sun rings until the dreams ring,
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they will continue to play.
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Put your kids to sleep
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play, play the quietest songs,
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may he not hear the sound of missiles,
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he doesn't have to worry
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that distance that that distance
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the mercenary has a gun in his hand,
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that radiates the war.
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Protect those bad dreams, children.
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Let him still see how along the field road,
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their horse in turn lush and free gallops.
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May the people of the world seem to me
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of those childhoods, though for my sorrow,
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the world that used to be is no longer available.
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I know him differently, though I don't know why,
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has a different plot, it sounds more like crying,
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than the trembling of manes, than the horses roaring.
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What can I do with that little one,
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I can at least say what one has
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perhaps the last of his humble wishes.
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I wanted to graze some of my horses
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there around the furrows. |
Whose sin is this?
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that I do not know a world in which there is no evil.
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Put your kids to sleep
|
just make them dream of horses,
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the heat of the sun rings until the dreams ring,
|
they will continue to play.
|
Put your kids to sleep
|
play, play the quietest songs,
|
may he not hear the sound of missiles,
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he doesn't have to worry
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those ends and moments
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when heat catches in kindergartens,
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those ends, bad moments,
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when a couple of horses die,
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horses couple.
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They are slim
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and white. |