Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Memórias De Um Chapéu, artist - Camané. Album song Esta Coisa Da Alma, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 13.04.2006
Record label: Parlophone Music Portugal
Song language: Portuguese
Memórias De Um Chapéu(original) |
Quisera então saber toda a verdade |
De um chapéu na rua encontrado |
Trazendo a esse dia uma saudade |
D´algum segredo antigo e apagado |
Sentado junto à porta desse encontro |
Ficando sem saber a quem falar |
Parado sem saber qual era o ponto |
Em que devia então eu começar |
Parada na varanda estava ela a meditar |
Quem sabe se na chuva, no sol, no vento ou mar |
E eu ali parado perdi-me a delirar |
Se aquela beleza era meu segredo a desvendar |
Porém apagou-se a incerteza |
Eram traços de beleza os seus olhos a brilhar |
E vendo que outro olhar em frente havia |
Só não via quem não queria da paixão ouvir falar |
Um dia entre a memória e o esquecimento |
Colhi aquele chapéu envelhecido |
Soltei o pó antigo entregue ao vento |
Lembrando aquele sorriso prometido |
As abas tinham vincos mal traçados |
Marcados pelas penas ressequidas |
As curvas eram restos enfeitados |
De um corte de paixões então vividas |
(translation) |
I would then like to know the whole truth |
From a hat on the street found |
Bringing this day a longing |
Of some old and erased secret |
Sitting by the door of this meeting |
Not knowing who to talk to |
Stopped without knowing what the point was |
So, what should I start with? |
Standing on the balcony she was meditating |
Who knows if in the rain, in the sun, in the wind or in the sea |
And I standing there, I lost delirious |
If that beauty was my secret to unravel |
However, the uncertainty was erased |
There were traces of beauty her eyes shining |
And seeing that another look ahead there was |
I just didn't see who didn't want to hear about the passion |
A day between memory and forgetfulness |
I picked that aged hat |
I released the old dust delivered to the wind |
Remembering that promised smile |
The flaps had poorly traced creases |
Marked by the withered feathers |
The curves were decorated remains |
From a cut of passions then lived |