A Deusa da Minha Rua
Roberto Carlos
The Goddess of My Street
The goddess of my street
Has eyes where the moon
Usually gets drunk
In her eyes I suppose
That the sun in a golden dream
Goes to seek brightness
My street is dull
But when she passes through it
Her figure that seduces me
The modest little street
Is a landscape of celebration
Is a cascade of light
In the street a puddle of water
Mirror of my sorrow
Carries the sky to the ground
Just like the ground of my life
My soul moved
My poor heart
Unhappy with my sorrow
My eyes are puddles of water
Dreaming of her gaze
She is so rich and I am so poor
I am plebeian and she is noble
It's not worth dreaming
Unhappy with my sorrow
My eyes are puddles of water
Dreaming of her gaze
She is so rich and I am so poor
I am plebeian and she is noble
It's not worth dreaming
