We'll go listen to Harlem at the corner of Manhattan We'll go blush tea in the souks in Amman We'll go swim in the river Senegal And we will see Bombay glow under a Bengal fire (lit. see Bombay burn under a Bengal fire) We'll go scrape the sky below Kyoto We'll go feel the heartbeat of Rio de Janeiro (lit. feel Rio beat in the heart of Janeiro) We will raise our eyes to the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel And we’ll raise our glasses in the cafe Pushkin
Oh what luck do we have (lit. how beautiful our luck is.) The thousands of colors of the human being (lit. at the thousands of colors of the human being) To be shared through our differences (lit. mixed to our differences) At the crossroads of destiny
You are the stars, we are the universe You are a grain of sand, we the desert You are a thousand pages and I am the pen Oh Oh Oh Oh You are on the horizon and we are the sea You are the seasons and we are the earth You are the shore and I am the foam Oh Oh Oh Oh
We’ll say that poets have no countries (lit. poets have no flags) We will celebrate our heroes (lit. we’ll make holidays as much as we have heroes) We’ll know that children are the guardians of the soul And that there are queens as much as there are women We’ll say that meeting others make the best trips (lit. we’ll say that meetings make the most beautiful trips) We’ll see that we deserve only that which is shared We’ll listen to the rhythms of the world (lit. we’ll hear sing musics of elsewhere) And we’ll give the best we have in us
Oh what luck do we have (lit. how beautiful our luck is.) The thousands of colors of the human being (lit. at the thousands of colors of the human being) To be shared through our differences (lit. mixed to our differences) At the crossroads of destiny