Se Eu Morresse de Saudade

If I died of longing
Everyone would know
Through the city streets
Everyone could see
The soul's fragments
The remains of the heart
Burned, poor wretch
By the fire of passion

If I died of longing
They would send you to jail
The people would suspect
That you were the culprit
Your portrait would be stamped on every grain
Of what would remain of me
Like sand on the ground

Fantasy, fantasy, seduction
Since the day I held your hand
If I died of longing
I would never get to know
The pleasure of freedom
The day to forget you
If I died of longing
I wouldn't be able to say
How good it is to die of longing
And to live in longing