Marcha da Mouraria [English translation]

Flashy Mouraria,

Very dauntless,

Very stunning!

With its whole carelessness,

Its mysterious air

Of a bewitched Moorish woman!

She's like a novel

In which love is a bright fire

And jealousy rules!

As soon as a window is opened,

Severa's face appears!

[Chorus:]

The Mouraria's March

Has a certain air of tradition!

She runs down the avenues of joy:

She's more of a bohemian,

She's more of a fado singer!

She goes about life in a daze

With a starched skirt,

A blouse made of chita.

She's slender, small in stature,

Cheerful, swarthy,

Gypsy and pretty!

She carries a guitar, so she can moan

Over a sublime love

That is never betrayed.

That neighbourhood must be

Lovely and the most working class in our Lisbon!

[Chorus:]

The Mouraria's March

Has a certain air of tradition!

She runs down the avenues of joy:

She's more of a bohemian,

She's more of a fado singer!