(The forgotten children have as only parents Only the sounds of the main boulevards In the palms of their hands
They offer to passer-bys Objects stolen to bazaars They have to love each other of a naive love The fragility of velvet words They have as palace all a universe In the air currents of the huge cities)
(The forgotten children hang in the streets Without a goal and at random They are cold, they are hungry, they are almost naked But they are the children of God)