It's hard not to notice, Bright colours on sandy backdrops, A thousand forgotten t-shirts, Shattered bottles that glitter in the sun.
How red, yellow, green, blue, pink Match the flowers that drip above our heads, Speaking fertility, the Earth in bloom.
And in winter, The colours refuse to cease, To be washed away with the rainy season.
Flowers fade, bloom again,
And the colours of life pile up around chicken eggs and fenced in gardens, Awakening ruins beyond their time.
The city is alive, And over there, A gold horizon glistens.
Memories on memories in a city that never dies.
