Romance [English translation]

In the old night, knock- knock,

knocking at my door:

-Where are you coming from, oh my soul?

-I come dead, almost dead.

I barely recognized her

so changed she was;

bringing swallows with

their wings all broken.

I sent her to make supper

of the best delicacies there was

-Where are you coming from, oh my beloved

that I barely recognize you?

But my soul hushed,

Looked and didn't answer;

and its famous eyes

how many sorrows there were!

I sent her to make the bed

with the best linen she had:

above, purple Damascus,

underneath fine cambraia

-Sleep, sleep, oh my soul,

-sleep, and, to cradle you,

my mouth is singing

wishing to cry...

• Artist:Amália Rodrigues