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letra de november - robert laurence binyon

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together we laughed and talked in the warm–lit room:
out now, alone i come
into the street, in the fall of the early night
shadowy skies, with a pale uncertain gloom
hover above the houses dim; but bright
in wetness mirrored far
retreating lamps outshine the lingering light
hazily blue the air, heavy with dews
the wind; and before me the cries and the crowd
and the sleepless murmur of wheels; not loud
for a magical softness all imbrues
the softness estranges my sense: i see and i hear
but know ’tis a vision intangible, shapes that seem
all is unreal; the sound of the falling of feet
coming figures, and far–off hum of the street;
a dream, the gliding hurry, the endless lights
houses and sky, a dream, a dream!

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