Canção Dos Infelizes
Cristina Buarque
Song of the Unfortunate Ones
Women are roots
Or very high branches
Some are always happy
Others the most unfortunate
Those who love in life
And those who only live loved
Suffer the most forgotten
Enjoy the always remembered
I wanted someone who didn't love me
Now I don't want anyone either
I gave my love, they let it slip away
I die of pain, but I will forget
The heart of women
When it warms up in love
Either gives millions of pleasures
Or cuts more than a razor
An unfortunate one when she loves
There is no love like hers
She walks lower than mud
Or rises higher than a star
