Retratos a Flor da Pele

Daniele e o mar

Charles Aznavour

She may be the face I can't forget

A trace of pleasure or regret

May be my treasure or

The price I have to pay

She may be the song that summer sings

May be the chill that autumn brings

May be a hundred different things

Within the measure of a day

She may be the beauty or the beast

May be the famine or the feast

May turn each day into a heaven or a hell

She may be the mirror of my dream

A smile reflected in a stream

She may not be what she may seem

Inside her shell

She who always seems so happy in a crowd

Whose eyes can be so private and so proud

No one's allowed to see them

When they cry

She may be the love that cannot hope to last,

May come to me from shadows of the past,

That I'll remember till the day I die.

She may be the reason I survive,

The why and wherefore I'm alive,

The one I'll care for through the

Rough and ready years.

Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears

And make them all my souvenirs

For where she goes I've got to be

The meaning of my life is she, she, she