Paroles et traduction Os Serranos - Os 18 do Ambrósio

Os 18 do Ambrósio

Agora eu vou contar a história de um chirro velho
Lá da minha terra
Nome? Ambrósio
Apelido dele? Lobisomem
Só saia de noite
E tem uns quantos lobisomens por aí?

Nos tempos do velho Ambrósio tinha graspa e canha pura
Pra levantar a pressão, amendoim e rapadura
Mocotó e reza braba, chá de arruda e benzedura

Que saudade dos dezoito, onde a força não faltava
O que viesse pela frente, o Ambrósio atropelava

Isso era naquele tempo, tchê?
Naquele tempo o Ambrósio era um guri
Gurizão irresponsável
Se metia a guiar o caminhão do avô dele
Um caminhão velho e sem freio
Vivia atropelando tudo e todos que tivesse pela frente
O Ambrósio era um perigo
Nossa! E hoje?
Hoje, o véinho com mais de noventa
Não representa qualquer perigo pra ninguém
Nem carteira tem mais
Coitado do véinho
É, só anda de carona

O Ambrósio levantava só pra dançar o bugio
E a véinha comentava: tá me dando um arrepio
Te acomoda, minha véia, que isso só pode ser frio

Que saudade dos dezoito, onde a força não faltava
O que viesse pela frente, o Ambrósio agasalhava

Isso era naquele tempo
Naquele tempo o Ambrósio tinha uma pala pura lã
As guriazinha com frio perto dele, o Ambrósio agasalhava todas
Ah, se aquele pala falasse, minha nossa
O peito do Ambrósio chiava
De quê?
De amor, de paixão e de carinho
E hoje? E hoje?
Hoje o peito chia ainda
Ah é? De quê?
Asma, bronquite e rouquidão
Xarope de mel é a solução
Sem falar que o pala do véinho tá que é puro carrapicho

O Ambrósio só dançava, corcoveando a noite inteira
De gastar a sola da bota no bugio ou na vaneira
Hoje ele só treme as pernas quando ataca tossedeira

Que saudade dos dezoito, onde a força não faltava
O que viesse pela frente, o Ambrósio espetava

Isso era só lá naquele tempo, tchê?
Naquele tempo o Ambrósio tava em fase de crescimento
Vivia com fome
Não havia o que chegasse pro Ambrósio
O Ambrósio comia de tudo
De tudo?
Do charque ao galeto
Que fome, hein?
O espeto do Ambrósio funcionava diariamente
Tá, mas e hoje, e hoje?
Hoje? (Hoje!)
O Ambrósio não come quase mais nada
Pra falar a verdade, não come nada
Já era o véio?
O detalhe é que o espeto do véinho hoje tá
Que é pura ferrugem
Eu tenho a solução
Qual é?
Jato de areia

Pelas quatro da manhã, o baile bem animado
E o Ambrósio tava mal, e dizia apavorado
É bobagem minha véia, não aguento, tô terminado

Que saudade dos dezoito, onde a força não faltava
O que viesse pela frente, o Ambrósio matava!

Oi, Ambrósio!
Obrigado
Obrigado

The 18 of Ambrósio

Now, let me tell you the story of an old fella,
from my homeland.
Name? Ambrósio.
Nickname? Werewolf.
He only went out at night.
And there are a few werewolves out there, huh?

In the days of old Ambrósio, there was graspa and pure sugarcane liquor
To raise the spirits, peanuts and brown sugar
Cow's feet stew and strong prayers, rue tea and blessings

Oh, how I miss being eighteen, when strength never failed
Whatever came his way, Ambrósio would run it over

That was back then, right?
Back then, Ambrósio was a young lad,
an irresponsible young man.
He'd take his grandpa's truck for a spin,
an old truck with no brakes.
He was always running over everything and everyone in his path.
Ambrósio was a menace.
Wow! And today?
Today, the old man, over ninety,
doesn't pose any danger to anyone.
He doesn't even have a driver's license anymore.
Poor old man.
Yeah, he only hitchhikes now.

Ambrósio would only get up to dance the bugio,
and the old lady would say: "It's giving me the chills."
"Settle down, my dear, it must just be the cold."

Oh, how I miss being eighteen, when strength never failed
Whatever came his way, Ambrósio would keep it warm

That was back then.
Back then, Ambrósio had a pure wool poncho.
The young ladies feeling cold near him, Ambrósio would keep them all warm.
Ah, if that poncho could talk, my goodness!
Ambrósio's chest would wheeze.
From what?
From love, passion, and affection.
And today? And today?
Today his chest still wheezes.
Oh yeah? From what?
Asthma, bronchitis, and hoarseness.
Honey syrup is the solution.
Not to mention, the old man's poncho is full of burrs.

Ambrósio would only dance, bucking all night long,
wearing out the soles of his boots in the bugio or the vaneira.
Today, his legs only shake when a coughing fit attacks.

Oh, how I miss being eighteen, when strength never failed
Whatever came his way, Ambrósio would skewer it

That was only back then, right?
Back then, Ambrósio was in a growth spurt.
He was always hungry.
There was nothing enough for Ambrósio.
Ambrósio would eat everything.
Everything?
From jerky to roast chicken.
What an appetite, huh?
Ambrósio's skewer was in daily use.
Okay, but and today, and today?
Today? (Today!)
Ambrósio barely eats anything anymore.
To tell the truth, he eats nothing.
Is the old man done for?
The thing is, the old man's skewer today is
pure rust.
I have the solution.
What is it?
Sandblasting.

At four in the morning, the party was lively,
and Ambrósio was feeling bad, and said in a panic,
"It's nothing, my dear, I can't take it anymore, I'm finished."

Oh, how I miss being eighteen, when strength never failed
Whatever came his way, Ambrósio would kill it!

Hey, Ambrósio!
Thank you.
Thank you.