“Naquela mesa” (Nelson Gonçalves, 1974)
Going old-timey today! Nelson Gonçalves wrote this song in honor of his father, who died in 1969. Gonçalves was one of Brazil’s biggest musical artists in the 1950s. Today would have been his 106th birthday.
“Naquela mesa”
Naquela mesa ele sentava sempre
E me dizia sempre o que é viver melhor
Naquela mesa ele contava histórias
Que hoje na memória eu guardo e sei de cor
Naquela mesa ele juntava gente
E contava contente o que fez de manhã
E nos seus olhos era tanto brilho
Que mais que seu filho
Eu fiquei seu fã
Eu não sabia que doía tanto
Uma mesa num canto, uma casa e um jardim
Se eu soubesse o quanto dói a vida
Essa dor tão doída não doía assim
Agora resta uma mesa na sala
E hoje ninguém mais fala do seu bandolim
Naquela mesa 'tá faltando ele
E a saudade dele 'tá doendo em mim
Naquela mesa 'tá faltando ele
E a saudade dele tá doendo em mim
“At that table”
At that table he always sat
And he was always telling me how to live better
At that table he told stories
That today I keep in my memory and know by heart
At that table he gathered people
And joyfully recounted his morning
And his eyes shown so brightly
That more than his son
I became his fan
I didn’t know that it would hurt so much
A table in a corner, a house, and a yard
If I had known how much life hurts
That pain so painful wouldn’t hurt like this
Now there’s a table left in the room
And nobody talks anymore about their mandolin
At that table he’s missing
And missing him is hurting me
At that table he’s missing
And missing him is hurting me