Текст и перевод песни Chico Buarque - Pelas Tabelas

Pelas Tabelas

Ando com minha cabeça já pelas tabelas
Claro que ninguém se toca com minha aflição
Quando vi todo mundo na rua de blusa amarela
Pensei que era ela puxando o cordão

Oito horas e danço de blusa amarela
Minha cabeça talvez faça as pazes assim
Quando ouvi a cidade de noite batendo panelas
Pensei que era ela voltando prá

Minha cabeça de noite batendo panelas
Provavelmente não deixa a cidade dormir
Quando vi um bocado de gente descendo as favelas
Achei que era o povo que vinha pedir
A cabeça do homem que olhava as favelas
Minha cabeça rolando no maracanã

Quando vi a galera aplaudindo de pé as tabelas
Jurei que era ela que vinha chegando
Com minha cabeça já pelas tabelas
Claro que ninguém se toca com minha aflição, não
Quando vi todo mundo na rua de blusa amarela
Pensei que era ela puxando o cordão

Oito horas e danço de blusa amarela
Minha cabeça talvez faça as pazes assim
Quando ouvi a cidade de noite batendo panelas
Pensei que era ela voltando prá
Minha cabeça de noite batendo panelas

Provavelmente não deixa a cidade dormir
Quando vi um bocado de gente descendo as favelas
Achei que era o povo que vinha pedir
A cabeça do homem que olhava as favelas
Minha cabeça rolando no Maracanã

Quando vi a galera aplaudindo de pé as tabelas
Jurei que era ela que vinha chegando
Com minha cabeça já numa baixela
Claro que ninguém se toca com minha aflição
Quando vi todo mundo na rua de blusa amarela
Pensei que era ela puxando um cordão

Pelas Tabelas

I wander with my head already on the tables
Of course, no one really gets my sorrow
When I saw everyone on the street in a yellow blouse
I thought it was her pulling the cord

Eight o'clock and I dance in a yellow blouse
My head might make peace like that
When I heard the city banging pots at night
I thought it was her coming back to

My head banging pots at night
Probably doesn't let the city sleep
When I saw a bunch of people coming down the favelas
I thought it was the people that came to ask for
The head of the man that looked at the favelas
My head rolling at the Maracanã

When I saw the crowd applauding the tables standing up
I swore it was her that was coming
With my head already on the tables
Of course, no one really gets my sorrow, no
When I saw everyone on the street in a yellow blouse
I thought it was her pulling the cord

Eight o'clock and I dance in a yellow blouse
My head might make peace like that
When I heard the city banging pots at night
I thought it was her coming back to
My head banging pots at night

Probably doesn't let the city sleep
When I saw a bunch of people coming down the favelas
I thought it was the people that came to ask for
The head of the man that looked at the favelas
My head rolling at the Maracanã

When I saw the crowd applauding the tables standing up
I swore it was her that was coming
With my head already on a platter
Of course, no one really gets my sorrow
When I saw everyone on the street in a yellow blouse
I thought it was her pulling a cord