Through the ashes of a cigarette (por Bruno Teixeira)

Through the ashes of a cigarette,
I walk down the road to the moon
like I’m a mariner driving his boat
during a travel in a peaceful sea.

With the eye of an eagle,
I see a shining diamond dazzling
a brighter emerald with a lascivious waltz
as a woman with a fleshly smile.

Through the ashes of a cigarette,
I feel like I’m an angel lying in a shrine
for an eternity of years and centuries.
And the light goes on and on.

Deeply in the fire I fall as a fallen angel
and from the ashes I rise like a phoenix;
the moonlight is starring at me
through the ashes of a cigarrete.