The emu moaned in the trunk of the jurema tree
It was such a sad sign, dark-haired woman
That I began to imagine
Might it be that our love, dark-haired woman
Is coming to an end?
You know all to well, that when the emu sings
In brings in the middle of its song a mouthful of bad luck
I have fear, dark-haired woman, I have fear
Well I think it's far too early
For this love to end
Come dark-haired woman, come, come, come
Kiss me, kiss me
Give me a kiss, give me a kiss
For this fear to end.