A Casa da Mariquinhas

In a bizarre street
Mariquinhas' house
In the living room, a guitar
Windows with small boards

She lives with many friends
The one I'm talking about
And there's no greater gift
Than a life of girls
She's crazy about songs
Like the cicada in the field
Singing fado on the guitar
So moved she even cries
The cheerful house where she lives
In a bizarre street

To stand out
She wears strange things
Lots of lace, lots of ribbons
Scarves of various colors
Sought after, desired
Proud like queens
She laughs at the many, poor things
Who rudely criticize her
For seeing the house full of people
Mariquinhas' house

It looks simple
But very poorly furnished
Ultimately worth nothing
Everything in her house
In the sill of each window
On a column, a vase
Calico bedspreads with trim
Pictures of dubious taste
Instead of having a piano
In the living room, a guitar

To protect her meager belongings
She bought a strong safe
And when the gas ran out
She cleans the furniture with almond oil
And the nosy neighbors
Pass by to see what's going on
But she, just to tease them
Has windows with small boards