EH! Mother.

  

I crossed the hinterland with a suitcase in my hand,
Cross the prairies to peddle,
Selling lingerie on brothels and houses of little fame,
Selling panties and bra for lady women.
To please your customers in bed.
From city in city of Pernambuco to Paraíba.
She sold on the whore's rest or at work with another "pro riba"
But he kept selling, did not mix fun with work,

Single as born, respectful and listener to my mother.
Who always told me: Look for a woman of respect.
The character of a woman is neither in the ass nor in the breasts.
My work was my motto and my life.
First I make my stocking foot.
Then I get married and live in jail.
Because no woman in the world will want to stay
Up and down walking on the back of a donkey,
Just like I do.

But one day I spoke with mother I'm going to change my course I'm going to sell in Bahia,
I stumbled out into the open,
Accompanying the bed of the São Francisco River, I left.
A village here and there, I sold what I gave to sell.
It seemed that fate pushed me down the river without rest.
At last I came to a city named Remanso.
I had little to sell, but a lot of need to survive.
I hurried to the whorehouse, I was sure to get my money.
Well received, I spread the products and in a few minutes sold everything.

Inside a brunette coming out looking like a mermaid asked me:
And there is nothing left for me.
And I said unto him, There is nothing left but me.
Then I want to: she said.
It was little talk, I gathered her things,
With a burning heart
I put it on the Donkey's back.
And I left for home.

I've never felt that way before, With that burning coal burning in my chest.
Twisting the heart.
I had heard of such passion. But that was the way it was not.
But when I got to Willow I had money
And a woman to love.
I went to sell, but fate just bought me.

When I got home, my mother went through
At the door.
He measured Iracema from top to bottom. And said:
Looking at me, Eita Bahia! I knew my son that you would one day get lost, and he laughed.
Iracema was well received and well accepted,
Mother made the bed to bed.
I discovered what happiness was, what it was to love,
If love is blind, what Iracema was before, he did not let it see.

But after about three months Iracema disappeared,
My mother said to me: She saw: the woman of life does not get used to a home. Do you think I did not know where she came from?
 You are not Jesus for this Mary Magdalene to accompany you.
Ah! As I cried, my happiness ran down the stream.
I'll get back to peddling and not getting involved with anyone else.
My work will be my only good.

After a few days already late at night
Someone knocked on the door.
Who was? Iracema! On your lap a little girl
Eyes black as night and he called me father,
Completely disarmed me.
My mother she called Grandma, her voice seized gave a knot,
I thought my mother would faint, but it was a sigh.

Iracema told me that she went to get her daughter to raise her family and the happiness of her heart.
I was afraid I would not let it and without her daughter I could not stay.
But looking at my mother clinging to that girl,
Life teaches, there are things that can not even comment.
Happiness is so much, it is so much that gave even to waste
My mother won two more grandchildren,
I and Iracema have been dreaming for twenty years.
I have my own store, the women now that
The lingerie comes fetch.
When a woman comes in the shop, my mother is watching me, I say:
Eh! Mother does not even have to recommend me.

                                                      Francisco Gouveia





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