Текст и перевод песни Mauro Moraes - Milongueando Uns Troços (Ao Vivo)

Milongueando Uns Troços (Ao Vivo)

Era inverno sim, eu perdido em mim
Rabiscava uns versos pra enganar a dor
O tédio, o pranto, o tombo
E encantava mágoas milongueando sonhos

Mas havia em mim, um cismar doentio
De agregar estimas aos atalhos gastos
Dos compadres músicos
Repartindo as tralhas tendo o olhar recluso

Repartindo as tralhas tendo o olhar recluso

Somos dessa aldeia filhos de parteiras
Na parelha injusta da cor
Somos pensadores sem pedir favores

Somos dessa plebe, febre de palavras
Na fronteira oculta dos rios
Somos cantadores sem pedir favores

Caso esta biboca, cova da desova
Dilarece o fruto, mastigando o gulo
O sumo, o tudo, o nada
Pego essa pandilha e engravido a rima

Se o amor der sombra, a sesteada é pouca
Pra escorar no esteio, os livros, os arreios
O riso humano, o cusco, os ossos
E talvez amigos milongueando uns troços

E talvez amigos milongueando uns troços

Caso esta biboca, cova da desova
Dilarece o fruto, mastigando o gulo
O sumo, o tudo, o nada
Pego essa pandilha e engravido a rima

Se o amor der sombra, a sesteada é pouca
Pra escorar no esteio, os livros, os arreios
O riso humano, o cusco, os ossos
E talvez amigos milongueando uns troços

E talvez amigos milongueando uns troços
E talvez amigos milongueando uns troços

Milongueando Uns Troços (Live)

It was winter, yes, I was lost in myself
I scribbled some verses to deceive the pain
The boredom, the weeping, the fall
And enchanted sorrows milonga-ing dreams

But there was in me, a sickly obsession
To add esteem to the wasted shortcuts
Of the musician compadres
Sharing the stuff with a secluded look

Sharing the stuff with a secluded look

We are from this village, sons of midwives
In the unjust match of color
We are thinkers without asking for favors

We are from this common people, feverish with words
On the hidden border of the rivers
We are singers without asking for favors

In case this hovel, a spawning pit
Dilates the fruit, chewing the glutton
The sum, the all, the nothing
I take this gang and impregnate the rhyme

If love gives shade, the nap is little
To support on the prop, the books, the harnesses
The human laughter, the mutt, the bones
And maybe friends milonga-ing some stuff

And maybe friends milonga-ing some stuff

In case this hovel, a spawning pit
Dilates the fruit, chewing the glutton
The sum, the all, the nothing
I take this gang and impregnate the rhyme

If love gives shade, the nap is little
To support on the prop, the books, the harnesses
The human laughter, the mutt, the bones
And maybe friends milonga-ing some stuff

And maybe friends milonga-ing some stuff
And maybe friends milonga-ing some stuff