Coração de Violeiro
Rolando Boldrin
Heart of a Guitarist
In that old dilapidated shack that time has already destroyed
Lived Zé Dunga, a brave hardworking black man
He was the greatest guitarist that God placed in the world
His guitar sounded like a singing bird
He worked all day, happy without complaining
But when the beautiful Moon started to shine in the sky
Everyone gathered around to see the black man sing
His pine guitar made the stones cry
It so happened that Carolina, a native woman, a spirit of a dog
Beautiful like a mermaid, but a woman of great temptation
To torment the black man, she pretended to have affection for him
Wanting, like a child, to play with his heart
The heart of a guitarist is not like any other
It's fragile like the petals of a delicate 'loves me, loves me not' flower
That falls with the wind from the wings of the Tié hummingbird
It loses its life when a bee comes to steal its honey
Therefore, poor Zé Dunga, hurt by the betrayal
Unable to bear the great passion in his chest anymore
Clutching his guitar and leaning on the ground
He was found with a dagger plunged into his heart
