When night falls over Lisbon
Like a sailboat without sails
All of Alfama seems like
A house without windows
Where the people gets cold
It is 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
It smells of people, of loneliness
It smells of hurt silence
It tastes like sadness with bread
Alfama doesn't smell of Fado
But it has no other song
Alfama doesn't smell of Fado
But it has no other song.://