Alfama [English translation]

When night falls over Lisbon

like a sailboat without sails

All of Alfama seems like

a house without windows

Where people cool down

It's in a loft,

In the space stolen from hurt,

that Alfama remains closed

Within four walls of water

Four walls of wailing

Four walls of anxiety

That at night do the singing

That lights itself up in the city

Closed in her disenchantment

Alfama smells of nostalgia

Alfama doesn't smell of Fado

Smells like people, like loneliness

Like a silent hurting

Tastes like bread with sadness

Alfama doesn't smell of Fado

But it has no other song.