In your abandoned garden, sunlight still prevails:

The jasmine climbs the trellis fragrantly, the

jacaranda ultravioletly sways.

The blossom. each of them by your hand planted,

Will, even if I tell them of your sudden

Disappearance from us,

Not believe the tale.



Though the samba has ended, I know in the sound

Of your voice, your piano, your flute, you are found,

And the music within you continues to flow

Sadly, lost Antonio.



You were my inspiration, my hero, my friend;

On the highway of time will I meet you again?

If the heart ever heals, does the scar always show

For the lost Antonio?

For the lost Antonio?



In your abandoned garden, beauty is unchanged:

The hummingbird still hovers for the scent the

frangipane so seductively displays.

Camellias, each of them by your hand planted,

The sadness of your sudden disappearance still

unknown to them,

Await the kiss of rain.



Though the samba has ended, I know in the sound

Of your voice, your piano, your flute, you are found,

And the music within you continues to flow

Sadly, lost Antonio.



You were my inspiration, my hero, my friend;

On the highway of time will I meet you again?

If the heart ever heals, does the scar always show

For the lost Antonio?

For the lost Antonio?