És tan bonica!

És tan bonica!
A Gràcia la Trinquetera

Les claus del cel,
sant Pere i sant Miquel...

Ella és tan bonica quan
alça el cap per a mirar...
Eixe coll, eixos ulls blaus
que no em deixen respirar...

Ella és tan bonica quan
seu al seu lloc habitual,
on les nostres mirades
es creuen de forma casual...

Ella és tan bonica i
més encara quan somriu!
És tan dolça com el vi,
és càlida com l'estiu!

És tan divertit pensar
que jo me l'estime tant
com per a no dir-li res
ni plantar-me al seu davant...

Però sé que els seus amics
ho saben i li ho han dit:
«Li agrades a eixe xic.»
Ara mai més serà divertit.

És bonica i elegant,
o m'estic equivocant?
Que no té un rostre preciós
i un nom igual de graciós?

Ain't she pretty?
To Pretty Grace

I see London, I see France,
I see Pretty's...

Ain't she pretty every time
she looks up and checks around?
Such fine neck, such deep, blue eyes
Ohmygod, she is so nice!

Ain't she pretty every time
she seats at her usual place
where she writes and meets her friends
while I'm scanning such clean face?

Ain't she pretty? Ain't she fine?
Ain't she perfect when she smiles?
Ain't she tasteful, sweet like wine?
Ain't she fair and full of style?

Ain't it beautiful to think
that I love her oh-so-much
as to stay here unnoticed
instead of feeling her touch?

But I know she has been told
by one of her closest friends
of «that boy who looks ahead,»
and it won't be fun never again...

Ain't she pretty? Ain't she cute?
Am I so misunderstood?
Ain't she got a pretty face
and a precious name like Grace?