A mulato Baiano
Very tall and mulato
Son of an Italian
And of a black Hauçá
He went learning how to read
Watching the world around him
And paying attention
To what wasn't in plain view
Thus is born a communist
A mulato Baiano
Who died in São Paulo
Shot by men of the military power
Due to features it acquired in American soil
The so-called cold war
Rome, France and Bahia
The communists kept dreams
The communists! The communists!
The mulato Baiano, mini and manual
Of the urban guerrilla who was arrested by Vargas
Later by Magalhães
Finally, by the milicos
He was always chased in the minutiae of the tracks
How are the communists?
Not that his enemies
Were fighting
Against the terror nations
That communism schemes
But for vain interesets
Of power and wealth
Almost always for less
Almost never for more
The communists kept dreams
The communists! The communists!
The Baiano died
While I was exiled
And I sent a message
"It me who has died"
And that he was alive
But no one understood
Life without utopia
In my understanding doesn't exist
Thus speaks as communist
However, the human race
Remains tragic, always
Undecodable
Boredom, horror, wonderment
Oh, mulato Baiano
Samba reveres you
Even though it doesn't believe
In violence and guerrilla
Boredom, horror and wonderment
Grimy sidewalks
Multitudes decaying
There's an abyss between men
And men, the horror
Who and how will make
The earth be kindled?
And untie it's knots
Discussing itself clearly
Iemanjá, Maria, Iara
Iansã, Catijaçara
The mulato Baiano didn't obey
The orders of interest that came from Moscow
It was romantic struggle
It was light, it was darkness
Made of wonderment, of boredom and of horror
The communists kept dreams
The communists! The communists!