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Poetry with a tune: "Translation of Lyrics" » English to Portuguese (BR)

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Source text in English

Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down

Well, I woke up Sunday morning
With no way to hold my head that didn't hurt.
And the beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad,
So I had one more for dessert.
Then I fumbled in my closet through my clothes
And found my cleanest dirty shirt.
Then I washed my face and combed my hair
And stumbled down the stairs to meet the day.

I'd smoked my mind the night before
With cigarettes and songs I'd been picking.
But I lit my first and watched a small kid
Playing with a can that he was kicking.
Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

In the park I saw a daddy
With a laughing little girl that he was swinging.
And I stopped beside a Sunday school
And listened to the songs they were singing.
Then I headed down the street,
And somewhere far away a lonely bell was ringing,
And it echoed through the canyon
Like the disappearing dreams of yesterday.

On a Sunday morning sidewalk,
I'm wishing, Lord, that I was stoned.
'Cause there's something in a Sunday
That makes a body feel alone.
And there's nothing short a' dying
That's half as lonesome as the sound
Of the sleeping city sidewalk
And Sunday morning coming down.

There were 10 entries submitted in this pair during the submission phase.

Entries submitted in this pair were rated on a per-segment basis. Listed below are all submitted translations of each individual source text segment.

Submitted segment translations

Translations submitted for each source text segment are listed below. Segments have had surrounding punctuation stripped, and the resulting identical segments have been grouped together, so each listed translation should differ, but the difference may be subtle (eg. internal punctuation or diacritics).

Viewing segment # out of 9

Source text segment #5

Then I walked across the street
And caught the Sunday smell of someone's frying chicken.
And Lord, it took me back to something that I'd lost
Somewhere, somehow along the way.
Rank by:
+2 | -1
Flashback to a long-gone stable relationship, or childhood ...
Μετά πέρασα στην άλλη μεριά του δρόμου
και με πήρε η Κυριακάτικη μυρουδιά κοτόπουλου που κάποιος τηγάνιζε.
Και, Κύριε, μ' έκανε ν' αναπολήσω �
Pređoh preko ulice,
miris pečenja nečijeg osjetih tada.
O Bože, sjećanje na nešto što izgubih usput,
negdje, nekada
مشيت على طوال الشارع في يوم احد مميز برائحة المشواي المنبعثة من المداخن, يا الاهي, رائحة الشواى اعادتني الى ذكريات فقدتها منذ زمن بعيد, على �
fried chicken is a common sunday lunch in the USA, but not in France it would be roasted chicken and not fried: poulet rôti ...
country fried chicken, hashbrown casserole, eggs - a "family" style breakfast - lost to the singer as he's alone
-2
De ahí, cruzé la calle y agarré el olor de Domingo del pollo frito de alguien. Y oh Señor, el olor me llevó hacia algo que había perdido algún Lugar, de una forma u otra ordenadamente.

Translations of this segment (10 total; 10 unique)

Depois atravessei a rua, e senti o cheiro de frango frito dos domingos. E, Deus, isso me fez lembrar de algo que perdi em algum lugar desta jornada, de alguma forma
Depois atravessei a rua E senti o cheiro de Domingo vindo do frango que alguém estava fritando. E, Senhor, isto me levou de volta a algo que eu havia perdido Em algum lugar, de algum modo ao longo do caminho
Então atravessei a rua E senti o aroma dominical do frango frito de alguém. E Senhor, isso me levou de volta para algo que eu tinha perdido Em algum lugar, de alguma maneira ao longo do caminho
Atravessei então a rua pro outro lado E senti o cheiro dominical de frango assado Que me levou, por Deus, de volta ao passado Perdido não sei onde pelo caminho
Então, atravessei a rua E senti o cheiro de domingo de alguém fritando frango. E Deus, aquilo me levou de volta para algo que eu tinha perdido Em algum lugar, de alguma forma, ao longo do caminho
Depois atravessei a rua E senti o cheiro domingueiro de frango frito. E meu Deus, isto me fez lembrar algo que eu tinha perdido Em algum lugar, de algum modo pelo caminho
Então atravessei a rua E cheirava a frango frito aos domingos Isso lembrou algo que perdi Em algum lugar, de alguma forma por aí
E senti do outro lado Um cheiro bom de frango e pinga de alambique. Que me fez lembrar de coisas que perdi em algum lugar, pelo caminho
Então, eu atravessei a rua E peguei o cheiro dominical da fritura de frango de alguém. E Senhor, isto me levou de volta para algo que eu tinha perdido Em algum lugar, de alguma forma ao longo do caminho
Atravessei a rua então E capturei o cheiro dominical de frango sendo frito. O que me trouxe lembranças, Senhor, de algo que eu perdi Em algum lugar, de alguma forma, pelo caminho
Viewing segment # out of 9