Recantiga
E era as folhas espalhadas, muito recalcadas no correr do ano
A recolherem uma a uma por entre a caruma de volta ao ramo
E era à noite a trovoada que encheu na enxurrada aquela poça morta
De repente, em ricochete, a refazer-se em sete nuvens gota a gota
E, era de repente o rio, num só rodopio a subir o monte
E, a correr contra a corrente assim de trás para a frente a voltar à fonte
Um monte de cartas espalhadas des-desmoronando-se todo em castelo
E era linha duma vida sendo recolhida de volta ao novelo
E era aquelas coisas tontas, as afrontas que eu digo e que me arrependo
A voltarem para mim, como se assim tivessem remendo
E era eu, um passarinho caído no ninho à espera do fim
E eras tu, até que enfim, a voltar para mim
Recantiga
And it was the scattered leaves, very resentful throughout the year
Gathering one by one among the pine needles back to the branch
And it was at night the thunderstorm that filled that dead puddle in the downpour
Suddenly, bouncing back, reshaping into seven clouds drop by drop
And, all of a sudden, the river, in a whirlpool, climbing the hill
And, running against the current like from back to front returning to the source
A pile of scattered cards collapsing into a castle
And it was the line of a life being gathered back into the ball
And it was those silly things, the insults that I say and regret
Coming back to me, as if they were patched up
And it was me, a fallen bird in the nest waiting for the end
And you were, finally, coming back to me
Escrita por: Miguel Araújo