Lyrics of A Rosinha Dos Limões - Kátia Guerreiro

A Rosinha Dos Limões (original)

Quando ela passa, franzina e cheia de graça,
Há sempre um ar de chalaça, no seu olhar feiticeiro.
Lá vai catita, cada dia mais bonita,
E o seu vestido, de chita, tem sempre um ar domingueiro.
Passa ligeira, alegre e namoradeira,
E a sorrir, p’rá rua inteira, vai semeando ilusões.
Quando ela passa, vai vender limões à praça,
E até lhe chamam, por graça, a Rosinha dos limões.
Quando ela passa, junto da minha janela,
Meus olhos vão atrás dela até ver, da rua, o fim.
Com ar gaiato, ela caminha apressada,
Rindo por tudo e por nada, e às vezes sorri p’ra mim…
Quando ela passa, apregoando os limões,
A sós, com os meus botões, no vão da minha janela
Fico pensando, que qualquer dia, por graça,
Vou comprar limões à praça e depois, caso com ela!
When she passes by, her body petite and graceful,
There’s always a cheerful semblance in her enchanting eyes
And there she goes, pretty and more and more beautiful each day
And her dress in chinz grants her always an air of joy
She passes by, her steps hurried, her look merry and coquettish
She goes down the street, smiling at everyone, seeding her illusions along the
way
When she passes by, she’s heading to the square to seal lemons there
And people lovingly call her «Rosinha, the girl who sells lemons»
When she passes by outside my window
My eyes go following her all the way until the end of the street
With her air of a naughty child, she walks hurriedly
Smiling with ease and sometimes she smiles at me When she passes by, offering the lemons out loud
Alone with my thoghts, leaned to my window,
I think to myself that one of these days, as if it were nothing
I’ll go to the square, to buy some of her lemons
And then to ask her hand in marriage

(translation)

When she passes, slender and full of grace,
There is always an air of pun, in his sorcerous gaze of hers.
There goes catita, more beautiful every day,
And her dress, made of calico, always has a Sunday look.
She passes light, happy and flirtatious,
And smiling, for the whole street, he sows illusions.
When she passes, she will sell lemons to the square,
And they even call it, for fun, the Lime Rose.
When she passes by my window,
My eyes go after her until I see, from the street, the end.
With arrogance, she walks hurriedly,
Laughing at everything and for nothing, and sometimes smiling at me...
When she passes by, touting the lemons,
Alone, with my buttons, in my window
I keep thinking that any day, by grace,
I'm going to buy lemons at the square and then I'll marry her!
When she passes by, her body dela petite and graceful,
There's always a cheerful semblance in her enchanting eyes
And there she goes, pretty and more and more beautiful each day
And her dress in chinz grants her always an air of joy
She passes by, her steps hurried, her look merry and coquettish
She goes down the street, smiling at everyone, seeding her illusions along the
way
When she passes by, she's heading to the square to seal lemons there
And people lovingly call her «Rosinha, the girl who sells lemons»
When she passes by outside my window
My eyes go following her all the way until the end of the street
With her air of a naughty child, she walks hurriedly
Smiling with ease and sometimes she smiles at me When she passes by, offering the lemons out loud
Alone with my thoghts, leaned to my window,
I think to myself that one of these days, as if it were nothing
I'll go to the square, to buy some of her lemons
And then to ask her hand her in marriage