My eight years, Cassimiro de Abreu.

Oh! How I miss The dawn of my life, My beloved childhood That the years no longer bring! What love, what dreams, what flowers, In those sunny afternoons In the shade of the banana trees, Under the orange groves! How beautiful are the days Of the dawn of existence! —The soul breathes innocence Like perfumes from a flower; The sea is—a serene lake, The sky—a blue mantle, The world—a golden dream, Life—a hymn of love! What dawn, what sun, what life, What nights of melody In that sweet joy, In that naive playfulness! The sky embroidered with stars, The earth filled with aromas The waves kissing the sand And the moon kissing the sea! Oh! The days of my childhood! Oh! My spring sky! How sweet life was On that cheerful morning! Instead of the sorrows of today, I had in these delights My mother's caresses And my sister's kisses! Free son of the mountains, I was well satisfied, My shirt open, – Bare feet, bare arms – Running through the meadows Around the waterfalls, Following the light wings Of the blue butterflies! In those happy times, I would go and pick the pitangas, I would climb to take off my sleeves, I would play by the sea; I would pray the Hail Marys, I would always find the sky beautiful. I would fall asleep smiling And wake up singing! Oh! How I miss The dawn of my life, My beloved childhood That the years no longer bring! – What love, what dreams, what flowers, On those sunny afternoons In the shade of the banana trees Under the orange groves!