Recantiga - António Zambujo, Miguel Araujo

E era as folhas espalhadas, muito recalcadas do 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

Hmmmm

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

E 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

E era eu, um passarinho caído no ninho à espera do fim

E eras tu, até que enfim, a voltar para mim

E era eu, um passarinho caído no ninho à espera do fim

E eras tu, até que enfim, a voltar para mim

And it was the scattered leaves, very repressed from the course of the year

To collect a one, among the pine needles, back to the branch

And it was at the thunderstorm that filled in the flood, that dead puddle

Suddenly, in a ricochet, to remake itself in seven clouds, dripping

Hmmmm

And it was suddenly the river, in a single twirl up mountain

And running against the current, so from backwards, to back to the source

And a lot of letters scattered, crumbling all into castle

And it was a lifeline being collected, back to the ball

And it was those silly things, the affronts that I say and that I regret

Returning to me as if they had a patch

And it was me, a bird fallen into the nest waiting for the end

And it was you, finally, coming back to me

And it was me, a bird fallen into the nest waiting for the end

And it was you, finally, coming back to me

And it was me, a bird fallen into the nest waiting for the end

And it was you, finally, coming back to me