Triste sorte [English translation]

I walk through life on a search

For a less dark night,

Which would bring moonlight from the sky;

For a less cold night,

At which I would not feel the agony

Of another day that has died.

I go on, singing in bitterness,

I pass from one fado to another,

That would tell of my fate.

My destiny, thus sung,

Can never be changed,

As I belong to fado myself.

It's bad luck to sing fado,

Which makes us think of death

And of every part of us that has died;

It is to walk through life on a search

For a less dark night,

Which would bring moonlight from the sky.