Essa Mulher

Early in the morning, this lady resigns herself
Sets the table, dusts off
Washes the dishes, dries her eyes

Ah, how this saint never forgets
To pray for the women
For the children, for the bread

Then, she smiles somewhat awkwardly
And embraces that man, that world
That makes her so happy

In the late afternoon, this girl falls in love
Adorns herself, decorates
Knows everything, doesn't mind

Ah, how this thing is so beautiful
To be a singer, to be an artist
All of this is very good

And cries so much with pleasure and agony
On any day, any day
Understanding how to be happy

At dawn, this woman causes so much damage
Takes off her clothes, makes the bed
Turns the table, dries the bar

Ah, how this crazy woman forgets
How men go crazy
In this mouth, on this ground

Then, it seems she finds it amusing
And thanks fate for all that
That makes her so unhappy

This girl, this woman, this lady
That I bump into all the time
In casual mirrors

Is made of shadow and so much light
Of so much mud and so many crosses
That she finds everything, natural