• Girl from Ipanema

    Look at this thing,
    most lovely,
    most graceful,
    It's her, the girl
    that comes, that passes,
    with a sweet swinging,
    walking to the sea.

    Girl of the golden body,
    from the sun of Ipanema,
    Your swaying,
    is more than a poem,
    It's a thing more beautiful,
    than I have ever seen pass by.

    Ah, why am I so alone ?
    Ah, why is everthing so sad ?
    The beauty that exists,
    The beauty that is not mine alone,
    that also passes by on its own.

    Ah, if she only knew
    that when she passes,
    the world smiles
    fills itself with grace,
    and remains more beautiful
    because of love.

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