Genius Brasil Traduções
Chico Buarque - Construção (English Translation)
[Verse 1]
He made love that time as if it was the last time
He kissed his wife as if she was the last one
And each of his children as if they were the only one
And he crossed the street in his shy gait
He climbed the construction as if he was a machine
He built in the plateau four solid walls
Brick after brick in a magical design
His eyes were blunted with cement and tears
He sat to take a rest as if it was Saturday
He ate rice and beans as if he was a prince
He drank and hiccupped as a shipwreck survivor
He danced and laughed out loud as if he was listening to music
And he tripped towards the sky as if he was a drunk man
And he floated on air as if he was a bird
And he ended up on the ground like a flaccid package
He agonized in the middle of the public sidewalk
He died on the wrong direction disturbing the traffic
[Verse 2]
He made love that time as if he was the last one
He kissed his wife as if she was the only one
And each of his children as if they were the prodigal son
And he crossed the street in his drunken gait
He climbed the construction as if he was solid
He built in the plateau four magic walls
Brick after brick in a logical design
His eyes were blunted with cement and traffic
He sat to take a rest as if he was a prince
He ate rice and beans as if it was the greatest meal
He drank and hiccupped as if he was a machine
He danced and laughed out loud as if he was the next one
And tripped towards the sky as if he was listening to music
And he floated on air as if it was Saturday
And he ended up on the ground like a shy package
He agonized in the middle of the shipwrecked sideway
He died on the wrong direction disturbing the public
[Verse 3]
He made love that time as if he was a machine
He kissed his wife as if it was a logical thing
He built in the plateau four flaccid walls
He sat to take a rest as if he was a bird
And he floated on air as if he was a prince
And he ended up on the ground like a drunk package
He died on the wrong direction disturbing the Saturday
[Outro]
For this bread to eat, for this floor to sleep on
The certificate to be born and the concession to smile
For letting me breathe, for letting me exist
May God pay you back
For the free cachaça we have to swallow
For the smoke, the disgrace we have to cough from
For the swinging scaffoldings we have to fall from
May God pay you back
For the paid mourning woman to pray and spit upon us
And for the flies kissing and covering us
And for the ultimate peace that will finally redeem us
May God pay you back