Boemia (La Boheme)
Eu falo de um tempo em que os jovens de hoje não podem viver mais montmartre ornamentada coberta de lilás, e sob janelas, humildes dormiam, em trapos de linho, viviam nas ruas, ali nos conhecemos, eu pintando a fome e tu pousando nua.
Boemia, boemia, lazer, amor e distração.
La boheme, la boheme, comer num dia e no outro não.
Dans les cafés voisins
nous étions quelques-uns
qui attendions la gloire
et bien que miséreux
avec le ventre creux
nous ne cessions d´y croire
et quand quelque bistro
contre un bon repas chaud
nous prenait une toile
nous récitions des vers
groupés autour du poêle
en oubliant l´hiver.
La bohème, la bohème tu eras linda e algo mais
la bohème, la bohème eramos jovens geniais
Souvent il m´arrivait
devant mon chevalet
de passer des nuits blanches
retouchant le dessin
de la ligne d´un sein
du galbe d´une hanche
et ce n´est qu´au matin
qu´on s´asseyait enfin
devant un café-crême
épuisés mais ravis
fallait-il que l´on s´aime
et qu´on aime la vie.
La bohème, la bohème saldosos loucos vinte anos
la bohème, la bohème viver do ar do cotidiano
Quand au hasard des jours
je m´en vais faire un tour
à mon ancienne adresse
je ne reconnais plus
ni les murs, ni les rues
qui ont vu ma jeunesse
en haut d´un escalier
je cherche l´atélier
dont plus rien ne subsiste
dans son nouveau décor
montmartre semble triste
et les lilas sont morts.
Boemia, boemia, éramos jovens e muito loucos
la bohème, la bohème
ça ne veut plus rien dire du tout
Bohemia (La Boheme)
I speak of a time when today's youth can no longer live, Montmartre adorned covered in lilacs, and under windows, humble people slept, in linen rags, lived on the streets, there we met, me painting hunger and you posing naked.
Bohemia, bohemia, leisure, love, and distraction.
La boheme, la boheme, eating one day and not the next.
In the neighboring cafes
we were a few
waiting for glory
and although poor
with empty stomachs
we never stopped believing
and when some bistro
for a good hot meal
took a canvas from us
we recited verses
gathered around the stove
forgetting the winter.
La bohème, la bohème you were beautiful and something more
la bohème, la bohème we were young and brilliant.
Often it happened to me
in front of my easel
to spend sleepless nights
retouching the drawing
of the line of a breast
the curve of a hip
and it was only in the morning
that we finally sat down
in front of a café-crême
tired but delighted
we had to love each other
and love life.
La bohème, la bohème crazy happy twenty years
la bohème, la bohème living from the air of everyday life.
When by chance of days
I go for a walk
to my old address
I no longer recognize
neither the walls, nor the streets
that saw my youth
at the top of a staircase
I look for the studio
of which nothing remains
in its new decor
Montmartre seems sad
and the lilacs are dead.
Bohemia, bohemia, we were young and very crazy
la bohème, la bohème
it doesn't mean anything anymore
Escrita por: Charles Aznavour / Jacques Plante