Balada para uma velinha [English translation]

In a park bench, an old woman

is so lonely with the umbrella

which is the scenary to her.

In a park bench, an old woman

is alone, there is nothing

sadder in this world.

By seeing her, you only feel tenderness, not pitty

neither compassion

because she has traces of freshness in the face.

She already sewed alpergatas and

true flags.

She suffered the poverty to the bottom.

With her bones, she made the tables and chairs,

in such a way

that allow her to be as if seated on the world.

In this garden, she is

the climbing plant of the tiredness

of the wrinkles , in which time

is much deeper.

In a park bench, an old woman

will not be alone anymore,

the future is with her,

and by opening, under the sunlight ,

her umbrella with a frayed dark cover,

the sun comes to contemplate her by the window.

If only this old lady were

the mother I want

the mother I had

there wasn't more beautiful than mine in the world .

In a park bench, an old woman

makes drawings with the pebbles

plebbles that, in reality, are like me.

She knows that her pains are the ones I also have

They are the painful crumbs for the adventurer son that God gave her.

And, around her seat, the

marigold and the swallows

prove that my mother never died.