Uma Casa Portuguesa

A Portuguese house is / bread and wine on the table.
When to the door comes someone humbly,
all are invited to sit at the table.
It is this weakness / that the people never denies.
The joy of this poverty is wealth to give, and be happy.

Four whitewashed walls, / a taste of rosemary,
a bunch of grapes, / two roses in a garden,
a St. Joseph tile / under the sun in spring,

a promise of kisses
two arms waiting for me ...

It is a Portuguese house, for sure!
It is certainly a Portuguese house!

Poor in the comfort of my home, / there is plenty of affection.
The curtain of the window and the moon, / the sun more like her ...
Very little, little bit of cheer / a simple life ...
It's only love, bread and wine and caldo verde, whiting in a steaming bowl.

Four whitewashed walls, / a taste of rosemary,
a bunch of grapes, / two roses in a garden,
a St. Joseph tile / under the sun in spring,

a promise of kisses
two arms waiting for me ..
.
It is a Portuguese house, for sure!
It is certainly a Portuguese house!