Marcha de Alfama [English translation]

Alfama doesn't age

And today it seems

Even younger

Lit windows

Look in them

How beautiful they look.

She wore a pale blouse

That from nearby

Is more modest

And the garrida skirt

That is only worn

On feast days.

Stepladder alleys, narrow streets

Round every corner there is a Bailarico

Ballads through the alleys and in all of them

The scent of basil

Roars of laughter, wandering fado

Today in Alfama is a demon

And in each corner an easy charm

Of a throne of St. Antonio.

Can't you hear the songs

And the girls

With tired eyes

Still enjoying the opportunity

For one more kiss

Of lovers

Can you hear the bells ringing

Roosters singing

All astray

And yet Mother Alfama

Only returns to bed

At the break of dawn.