A Casa da Mariquinhas [English translation]

It was last Sunday I passed

the house Mariquinhas lived

But everything is so changed

I did not see at nowhere

Those windows with blinds

From the floor to the ceiling

I saw nothing, nothing, nothing

that could remind me Mariquinhas

And there is a blue pane, stuck in the place

Where the blinds were

I went in and where the room was, now

there is a skinny guy sitting at the desk

But I did not see bedspreads with embroided hemlines anymore

Nor viola, nor guitar

Neither furtive nosy glances from the women in the neighborhood

Time spiked its claws

Into the soul of that house

Into the place we many times snacked sardines

When in nights with guitar and party

Mariquinhas used to feel so joyful

The windows looked so bright and coloured

With curtains of a bobble patterned fabric

They lost all the grace because they are just a pane today

with curled frames in iron

And anyone that comes in there today,

they come in only to get to the pawn shop

to deliver to the loan shark a couple of things

This is the misery that the grace of

Mariquinhas's house has come to

Having done what they did to the house

Better if they had imploded it

Because, turning into a pawn shop

What was a nest of love

is an idea that does not fit with mine

Memories of warmness

And the taste of nostalgias, I will try to forget them

by relishing some ginjinhas

Because "feeding the thirst of my pain is the best thing to do"

As Mariquinhas used to say

Because "feeding the thirst of my pain is the best thing to do"

As Mariquinhas used to say