A Júlia Florista [English translation]

Bohemian singer

Says the tradition

Known in Lisbon

A prideful figure

In our song

Bizarre figure

To the sound of the guitar

Fado lived

Selling her flowers

But her lovers

She never would sell

Oh Julia the florist

Your beautiful story

Marked by time

In our memory

Oh Julia the florist

Your voice echoes

The parochial nights

Bohemian, singers

In our Lisbon

With slippers on the feet

The air of rabble

The way she walked

When Julia passed

Lisbon stopped

To hear her sing

In the air her trade

In her mouth a song

Speaking of love

Against her chest

The grace and the way

The basket of flowers.