Fogo Sem Fuzil
Eu esse ano voa embora pro sertão pra dançar pelo São João
Farriar com mais de mil, ver
Os velhotes atirar de granadeiro
E a moçada no terreiro tirar
Fogo sem fuzil
E a meninada brincar de anel
Pamonha e café, sempre na mesa
E as moreninhas, pra sevir com
Alegria, quando for no outro
Dia tem buchada com certeza
Fire Without a Gun
This year I'm flying off to the countryside to dance for Saint John
Partying with over a thousand, see
The old folks shooting with their rifles
And the young ones in the yard having
Fire without a gun
And the kids playing ring
Corn pudding and coffee, always on the table
And the brown-skinned girls, serving with
Joy, when the next
Day comes, there'll definitely be tripe