Não Passes Com Ela À Minha Rua
Ao fim de tantos anos de ser tua
Amaste outra, casaste, foste ingrato;
Vi-te passar com ela à minha rua
Abracei-me a chorar ao teu retrato
Vi-te passar com ela à minha rua
Abracei-me a chorar ao teu retrato
Podia insultar-te quando te vi
Ferida neste amor supremo e farto
Mas vinguei-me a chorar, chorei por ti
Por entre as persianas do meu quarto
Mas vinguei-me a chorar, chorei por ti
Por entre as persianas do meu quarto
Casaste! sê feliz, deus te proteja
Não te desejo mal, e tanto assim
Que não tenho ciúmes nem inveja
Como a tua mulher teve de mim
Que não tenho ciúmes nem inveja
Como a tua mulher teve de mim
Mas olha, meu amor, eu não me importa,
Antes que fosses dela eu já fui tua
Podes sempre bater à minha
Porta
Mas não passes com ela à minha rua
Podes sempre bater à minha
Porta
Mas não passes com ela à minha rua
Don't Pass By My Street With Her
After so many years of being yours
You loved another, got married, were ungrateful;
I saw you pass by my street with her
I hugged myself crying at your picture
I saw you pass by my street with her
I hugged myself crying at your picture
I could insult you when I saw you
Wounded in this supreme and abundant love
But I got my revenge crying, I cried for you
Through the blinds of my room
But I got my revenge crying, I cried for you
Through the blinds of my room
You got married! Be happy, may God protect you
I don't wish you harm, and so much
That I don't have jealousy or envy
Like your woman had of me
That I don't have jealousy or envy
Like your woman had of me
But look, my love, I don't care,
Before you were hers, I was already yours
You can always knock on my
Door
But don't pass by my street with her
You can always knock on my
Door
But don't pass by my street with her
Escrita por: Casimiro Ramos