O ladrão da Babilônia

On the fair green hills of RioThere grows a fearful stain:The poor who come to RioAnd can’t go home again.On the hills a million people,A million sparrows, nest,Like a confused migrationThat’s had to light and rest,Building its nests, or houses,Out of nothing at all, or air.You’d think a breath would end them,They perch so lightly there.But they cling and spread like lichen,And the people come and come.There’s one hill called the Chicken,And one called Catacomb;There’s the hill of Kerosene,And the hill of the Skeleton,The hill of Astonishment,And the hill of Babylon.Micucu

Political science · Urban Development and Societal Issues