Paroles et traduction João Bosco - Sudoeste

Sudoeste

O vento deu no matagal e deu na cara dos cajás
No coqueiral, nas borboletas, azulão, nos curiós
Jaca manteiga, jaca mãe, no bambuzal, nas teias
Tristes do porão, caramanchão, capim navalha coração
Canavial, acorde de um acordeão lá do matão
Menina moça gavião, aluvião, anunciando anunciação
E o garnisé cortando os pulsos da manhã nesse quintal
E o vento deu na manga

O vento deu no matagal e deu na cara dos cajás
No coqueiral, nas borboletas, azulão, nos curiós
Jaca manteiga, jaca mãe, no bambuzal, nas teias
Tristes do porão, caramanchão, capim navalha coração
Canavial, acorde de um acordeão lá do matão
Menina moça gavião, aluvião, anunciando anunciação
E o garnisé cortando os pulsos da manhã nesse quintal
E o vento deu na manga

E o vento deu no mangueiral, na roupa branca do varal
No lodaçal, e deu na cara da ilusão, no temporal
Deu nas pegadas desse chão

E o vento deu no natural, deu no início de natal
Deu no olhar e deu na cara do luar, deu na paixão
De um galo doido no quintal

Southwestern

The wind hit the undergrowth and blew into the faces of the cashew trees
In the coconut grove, in the butterflies, bluebird, in the curiós
Buttercup jaca, jaca mother, in the bamboo forest, in the spider webs
Pigeon peas in the basement, gazebo, saw grass razor blade heart
Sugarcane field, the chord of an accordion over there in the dense forest
Hawk-girl, flooding, announcing the annunciation
And the gardenia cutting the wrists of the morning in this yard
And the wind hit the mango

The wind hit the undergrowth and blew into the faces of the cashew trees
In the coconut grove, in the butterflies, bluebird, in the curiós
Buttercup jaca, jaca mother, in the bamboo forest, in the spider webs
Pigeon peas in the basement, gazebo, saw grass razor blade heart
Sugarcane field, the chord of an accordion over there in the dense forest
Hawk-girl, flooding, announcing the annunciation
And the gardenia cutting the wrists of the morning in this yard
And the wind hit the mango

And the wind hit the mangrove swamp, on the white clothes on the clothesline
In the quagmire, and it blew into the face of the illusion, in the storm
It blew on the footprints of this ground

And the wind blew on the natural, it blew at the beginning of Christmas
It blew in the look and it blew into the face of the moonlight, it blew on the passion
Of a crazy rooster in the yard