A canção dos bobos

Isn't it rich? Are we a pair?

Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air.

Send in the clowns.

Às vezes, passar por uma situação ridícula parece ser inevitável, não é mesmo? Em contrapartida, eu desafio aquele que admitir que nunca se fez de bobo, ou nunca se permitiu ser feito de bobo, a atirar a primeira pedra.

Isn't it bliss? Don't you approve?

One who keeps tearing around, One who can't move.

Where are the clowns? Send in the clowns.

Stephen Sondheim soube fazer bom uso da figura do palhaço; soube ser pontual, na medida.

Just when I'd stopped opening doors,

Finally knowing the one that I wanted was yours,

Making my entrance again with my usual flair,

Sure of my lines, No one is there.

 

Sim, por favor, mandem os palhaços! A distração é bem-vinda.

Don't you love farce?

My fault I fear.

I thought that you'd want what I want.

Sorry, my dear.

But where are the clowns?

Quick, send in the clowns.

Don't bother, they're here.

Isn't it rich?

Isn't it queer, Losing my timing this late in my career?

And where are the clowns?

There ought to be clowns.

Well, maybe next year.