She never sleeps alone, her bed is in the moonlight.
The wind hits its trees,
An eternal branch to shake,
Whispers and chirps of birds to nest.
In her icy seats there is always a soul to wrap.

The square full of grace and splendor,
Receive all who pass with love,
Silent, graceful, full of peace.
For her time stopped a corner of meditation.
Those who go to it always have a new joy,
A new pleasure to live another day.

The square is a place of friends, a place of light.
From rearranging up to clear the concerns,
Create new reasons to love life,
Watching children running, joking.
The innocence of the beginning of life, a certain future.
The square is a friend with open arms.
Where they fit all without distinction.
A place to make friends, sing, talk and love,
Have fun, get out of the rut.
And it does not get that far, it's just around the corner.

                           Francisco Gouveia (Brazil)

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