É o mar

O homem que diz "dou" não dá, porque quem dá mesmo não diz
O homem que diz "vou" não vai, porque quando foi já não quis
O homem que diz "sou" não é, porque quem é mesmo é "não sou"
O homem que diz "tô" não tá, porque ninguém tá quando quer


Costa Amalfitana

Masks of twigs and clay

You're an African doctor harvesting tear ducts. You believe in god, but you get no special dispensation for this belief now. You're an old man sitting by a fire, hear the mist rolling of the sea. You're a distant memory in the mind of your creator, don't you see?


Hautpoul

you were beaming once before

The animals, the animals
trapped, trapped, trapped 'till the cage is full
The cage is full
Stay awake in the dark, count mistakes
The light was off but now it's on
Searching the ground for a bitter song
The sun is out, the day is new
And everyone is waiting, waiting on you
And you've got time, and you've got time
Think of all the roads
Think of all their crossings
Taking steps is easy, standing still is hard

Remember all their faces, remember all their voices
Everything is different the second time around


Rio de Onor

lembra-me um sonho lindo

Enfim duma escolha faz-se um desafio
Enfrenta-se a vida de fio a pavio
Navega-se sem mar, sem vela ou navio
Bebe-se a coragem até dum copo vazio
E vem-nos à memória uma frase batida
Hoje é o primeiro dia do resto da tua vida


De Penedono para Ranhados

e as serras

Strange face with your eyes so pale and sincere
Underneath you know well you have nothing to fear
For the dreams that came to you when so young
Told of a life where spring is sprung

You would seem so frail in the cold of the night
When the armies of emotion go out to fight
But while the earth sinks to it’s grave
You sail to the sky on the crest of a wave

So forget this cruel world where I belong
I’ll just sit and wait and sing my song
And if one day you should see me in the crowd
Lend a hand and lift me to your place in the cloud


Tormes

Como engana a fantasia

Partamos de flor ao peito
Que o amor é como o vento
Quem pára perde-lhe o jeito
E morre a todo o momento

Ciganos verdes ciganos
Deixai-me com esta crença
Os pecados têm vinte anos
Os remorsos têm oitenta


Viana do Castelo

Subterranean Homesick Blues

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
And to yourself you sometimes say

"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"