A carta que não foi mandada [English translation]

Paris, October of '73

I'm in our bar once again

And I'm writing write to say

That it's the same cup and the same light

Shining on the champagne in various shades of blue

In the mirror in front I'm just another customer

A man was already happy, maybe

And I see that tears of pain run down his face

Yearning, certainly, for some grand love

But at seeing him so sad and lonely

It is I who is crying

The same tears

And, such is life, the time passes

And continues reminding of

Songs of too much love

Yes, it will be one more, one more whatever

That comes from time to time

And looks back

It is, a woman always exists

To stay thinking of herself

I neither say, nor remember more.