Original subtitles

Born on the day in the city.

I spell,

in my old Lisbon.

another life.

And with a knot of nostalgia.

in the throat.

I hear that a fado tunes.

in the farewell.

And with a knot of nostalgia.

in the throat.

I hear that a fado tunes.

in the farewell.

It was in the taverns the Alfama,

in a sad moment,

this song where he was born,

his regret,

in memory of those who are

like the wind,

in the eyes of someone who loves

and not give up.

In memory of those who are

like the wind,

in the eyes of someone who loves

and not give up.

Glows when the old flame feeling

I hear this sea that roars

while singing.

And from a Madragoa Bica,

at a time,

always returns this anxiety

at the time of departure.

Production

Script and direction

Which only lives in the past,

without goal

is a prisoner of fate

it invades ...

beginning of the busy nineteenth century with the arrival in Lisbon

for work of thousands people in rural areas,

but the colonies Africa and Brazil,

fado arises in courtyards, brothels and taverns.

This type of music has survived

until today in its original form,

But two centuries later is an inspiration

Portuguese latitudes saw it.

As a water source

My hand is transparent

in the eyes of my grandmother.

Between land and sky

my grandmother knew black

those things of fate.

I see the sea leads

in the rivers of desire

who was born to sing.

The Zambezi becomes the Tagus

chanted many times to envy

Lisbon to live.

Lisbon to live.

I see a hair braiding

the warm and singing fado

in a shawl of tirabuzones.

Like a fairy tale

African drums become guitars

and coconut in sunflowers.

My grandmother knew black

how to read things in the destination

in the palm of each eye.

Life does not want or like,

God told the witch

I was born to sing.

Girl, what's the matter,

you're angry with me?

Girl, what's the matter,

you're angry with me?

Is it because your black

was not inclined at your feet?

Is it because your black

has not been inclined to your feet?

Let's make peace, my love,

I got here, to its knees.

Let's make peace, my love,

I got here, to its knees.

Let's make peace, my love,

here I got on his knees.

Here I am.

Here I am.

Girl, what's the matter?

Why are you crying, do you?

Girl, what's the matter?

Why are you crying, do you?

But if I cry why

're angry with me.

Cry if I am right,

're angry with me.

Let's make peace, my love,

I got here, to its knees.

Let's make peace, my love,

I got here, to its knees.

Here I am.

Here I am.

Here I am.

Do not tell me what is the cause

that I do not talk when I entered.

Do not tell me what is the cause

that I do not talk when I entered.

It will be because your love

I was already over.

It will be because your love

I was already over.

It will be because your love

I was not over.

It will be because your love

I already finished

Let's make peace, my love,

I got here, to its knees.

Here I am.

Here I am.

The wind blows too hard

so you can relax.

The wind blows too hard

so you can relax.

There are in my thoughts

something that is going to stop.

There are in my thoughts

something that is going to stop.

Perhaps the thing of the soul

who believe that life is real.

Perhaps the thing of the soul

who believe that life is real.

Maybe this thing quiet

that makes my soul alive.

Maybe this thing quiet

that makes my soul alive.

Wind blows over,

I am afraid to think.

Wind blows over,

I am afraid to think.

My mystery myself Avivo

if I lost in meditation.

My mystery myself Avivo

if I lost in meditation.

Passing wind and forgets,

Dust rises and falls.

Passing wind and forgets,

Dust rises and falls.

Alas for me if I could

know what is inside me.

Oh, me if I could

know what is inside me.

Weep, weep fado,

a fado died.

Today, exactly a year ago

Severa who died.

The Count of Vimioso

suffered a hard blow

when they went to say:

"Your Severe perished."

Run to your grave

and still get to see his body.

"Goodbye, my Severa,

God give you good luck. "

In that heavenly kingdom,

with your guitar in hand,

become fado the angels,

his world upside down again.

Until the San Pedro

sitting at the gate of heaven

andalusia come to see Severa

was to give palms and to sing a fado.

Weep, fado, crying,

Severa who perished.

The flavor was fado

it was completed.

Oh, street Capel�o

rushes of rosemary.

Oh, Capel�o Street,

rushes of rosemary.

If my love reaches prontito

besar� stone floor

she stepped on to the while passing.

If my love

prontito arrives

besare stone floor

she stepped on to the while passing.

I have the destination marking

soon I saw you on.

I have the destination marking

soon I saw you on.

Oh, my beloved gypsy,

andalusia embraced live fado,

hugging you die.

Oh, my beloved gypsy,

andalusia embraced live fado,

hugging you die.

Oh, my beloved gypsy,

andalusia embraced live fado,

hugging you die.

A nightingale told me,

viejito of Choupal,

the most beautiful fish

one died days

for having repudiated

His love fatal,

a young troubadour

which is love.

Also came to sing

their serenades

on the banks of the Montego

the genteel troubadour

no matter ever

gratae in their songs,

the poor who die

delivered to his love.

They say that since then

an echo murmurante

responding in Choupal

the band Estudiantina

is the voice of Tricana

he believes is the lover

until today there is still singing

its sad fate.

Tribute to Marceneiro Alfredo, poet of the street.

A lifelong carpenter

to sing fado until death.

Sad fado,

sad fado.

Carpenter.

Carpenter all his life.

Sad fado,

sad fado.

I was not born with a hammer

or follow the footsteps of my father.

No one wanted to be vague,

but wondered whether what I wanted to be

I preferred to flee in a balloon.

Looking for my profession,

my way, in my training,

I found a notebook with no stripes,

Loose letters lost a hatch.

I looked for a hammer

joined the words and began to build.

First idea: A Window

to pass the truth

that is not in the novels.

A dark, lit a candle,

I felt the smell of sawdust and I wanted to make the sequel.

Suddenly came to my mind

a door to exit that cell.

I am

> carpenter to death.

> My blood flows and flows.

My love,

This also helps fado,

The day also consumed.

Soy

Carpenter's death.

My blood flows and flows.

Question flavors and pains

which is my parents, present and future.

Do not forget the crying that is revealed in their faces.

I can not extinguish the flame.

The need another nail bed.

My body is delivered, exhausted.

Embrace my Karma, which was accepted

and I need to return. Need

sandpaper in one hand. Limo imperfections.

Not trying to be perfect, but the time I gently

maturing in each piece. It is my goal.

I got letters all over the workshop.

No reward while there is no money.

My mind just thinks to have an idea.

Is the life of a carpenter.

Soy

Carpenter's death.

My blood flows and flows.

My love,

This also helps fado,

The day also consumed.

Soy

Carpenter's death.

My blood flows and flows.

Was given the gift of construction

but with one condition: Do not let

using the heart, with conviction.

A mission that does not control,

the task of sculpting, a feeling

or a simple scene. Not in vain

always believe that I belong.

More is to describe an emotion.

Let your mind wander, do not be afraid

make what you feel in employment.

Write your vision, do not be blind.

Use the hammer, no nails.

Breathe, stop, think.

Take off that tension.

Cree with inner strength

and forget what others think.

The flame should not be turned off.

It should not be shut down

the flame.

Caught the morning

like a child.

A rosebush interwoven,

a strain of hope.

As the body the city

that early in the morning dance rehearsal

of those, force of will,

never tire of working.

Walk the street with the moon

in my Tajo lights early.

Vago for Lisbon tide naked

which empties into the Rossio.

I'm a man of the city

that early in the morning wakes up and sings,

and love for freedom

the city stands.

I go down the street dazzled

by the full moon in Lisbon

until the moon in love

grows in the sailing of the canoe.

I am the seagull that defeat

any weather at sea

I am the man who carries

the tide of people scared.

And when caught the morning,

capture the morning like a flower

at the edge of the penalty deflowered.

A blue margarita,

daisy of freedom

I want as anybody.

Daisy in this city

I want,

I want to.

In my hands, the morning

also opened the flower April.

Flower without fear, perfumed

with the aroma of the sea.

Flor de Lisboa, well loved,

I do not want

but now I want.

It was in the Travessa da Palha

where my lover, a scoundrel,

made my heart bleed.

Bringing to another lover,

came contours, petulant,

with an air of provocation.

Bringing to another lover,

came contours, petulant,

with an air of provocation.

In the tavern Friagem,

between a bunch of Fados,

I came to them without rancor.

Because the woman who brought

certainly not worth

or shade

my love.

Because the woman who brought

certainly not worth

nor the shadow of my love.

It was in the Travessa da Palha

where my lover, a scoundrel,

made my heart bleed

bringing another lover.

Came contours, petulant,

with an air of provocation.

Bringing to another lover,

came contours, petulant,

with an air of provocation.

In the tavern Friagem,

between a bunch of Fados,

I came to them without rancor.

Because the woman who brought

certainly not worth

or shade

my love.

Because the woman who brought

certainly not worth

nor the shadow of my love.

To see who had more verve

sing a challenge

this one and me.

I left it up to the bitumen,

showing more fado,

proving to be more women.

I left it up to the bitumen,

showing more fado,

proving to be more women.

It was one of those scenes,

among many others in my life,

of which are never forgotten.

I only know that at dawn

when everything was finished,

we both went home.

I only know that at dawn

when everything was finished,

we both went home.

We both went home.

Return, life lived,

to enable it to see again.

Return, life lived,

so you can see again

one life lost

I never knew that life.

One life lost

I never knew that life.

I would not do again

those times. What nostalgia.

I would not do again

those times. What nostalgia.

Spring always returns,

the only thing that does not return is youth.

Spring always returns

the only thing that does not return is youth.

Time passes

and we were deceived.

Time passes

and we were deceived,

Now laughing,

Now crying.

Now crying, Now laughing.

Now laughing, Now crying.

Now crying, Now laughing.

"My God, how time passes,"

say from time to time.

"My God, how time passes,"

say from time to time.

In the end,

is the time that remains,

and people going past.

In the end, is the time that is,

and people going past.

Have known

they were going to die young

I would never have loved

anybody in this world.

Have known

they were going to die young

I would never have loved

anybody in this world.

This dance

is the dream of my hope

it has taught me

your love was false

flower.

This dance

is the dream of my hope

it has taught me

your love was false

flower.

At the farewell

cry a lot.

That hurt

and I cried too.

This dance

is the dream of my hope

it has taught me

faso was your love,

flower.

At the farewell

cry a lot.

That hurt

and I cried too.

This dance

is the dream of my hope

it has taught me

your love was false

my flower.

Love, when shown,

it is not known to display.

He knows how to look

but not knowing how to talk.

Who wants to say what he feels

do not know what to say.

If he speaks, it seems that lying.

If shut, it seems to forget.

Oh, if she guessed,

if I could hear the eyes ...

And if you look enough

to know that are loving ...

But I feel much, shut up.

Who wants to say what you feel

remains without a soul,

speechless,

and totally alone.

It was in the dry wild leaves.

Who put you that name.

Soledad,

loneliness.

He knows what words are

before they put the sun.

As a dream of agony ...

These eyes of mine.

Soledad,

Little India.

Is it so fast? Do not stop?

Little Indian.

Little Indian.

In ash soil abandoned.

What do you think? Do not think anything.

Soledad, loneliness.

Life is totally secret

as the stars

like the stars in these ashes.

As the stars

like the stars in these ashes.

Before they let the sun ...

Soledad.

Soledad.

- This is wrong here? - Not very well.

Well

only he would explain

who serves your destination

without penalty and without joy.

Your heart is so big ...

very nice too ...

It is by God's will

I live in anxiety,

cries are all mine,

and all my nostalgia.

It is by God's will.

What a strange way of life

have this heart of mine.

Lives lost in life,

Who would you give this gift?

What a strange way of life.

Celebrities independent

heart that does not control,

lives lost among the people

stubbornly bleeding,

heart independent.

I do not already over,

order to stop beating,

if you do not know

where to go,

Why insist on running?

I do not already over.

Gr�ndola, brown village,

land of brotherhood.

The village is in charge

inside you, oh city.

Inside you, oh city.

The village is in charge,

land of brotherhood.

Gr�ndola, brown village.

Oh, my muse fado,

oh, my gracious mother.

I leave you, shocked,

the first of April.

Do not be so ungrateful,

do not forget who I love you

and who in your dense jungle lost and found.

This land still will meet his ideal,

will become yet in a vast Portugal.

You know?

Basically I am a sentimental.

All the inherited blood Lusitanian a good dose of lyricism.

In addition to syphilis, of course.

Although my hands are busy

torturing, drowning, degollando,

close your eyes my heart and sincerely mourned.

With Culantrillo in the scrub,

rosemary in the reedbed,

liquors in the Moringa,

came a tropical

and the beautiful mulata

fits with the Alentejo

to which a bravata stole a kiss.

This land still will meet his ideal,

will become yet in a vast Portugal.

My heart is calm by nature

hit my hand Hard and fast.

So, when everything is done,

lost, I question myself.

If you take your hands off my chest

is that distance between intention and gesture.

And if you close with my hands my heart

I am surprised the sudden sense of incest.

In the heat of battle

boasts a sharp grip

but my chest is opened.

And if the ruling announces brutal,

quickly Blind runs his hand,

because if not, forgiving heart.

Guitars and zanfona,

jasmine, coconut trees and fountains,

sardines, cassava,

in a smooth tile.

And the Amazon River

traveled Tr�s-os-Montes

and a large wave flows into the Tagus.

This land still will meet his ideal,

will become yet in a vast Portugal.

This land still will meet his ideal,

will become yet in a vast Portugal.

Me, I just miss me,

Lady of my life,

I say that's my dream

and I

by birth.

I bring a fado song

in my soul

well-kept.

Come inside my surprise

looking

My fado.

My fate, my fate.

My fate, my fate.

A friendship lost

can never return.

It was a feigned friendship

to go and play again.

It was a feigned friendship

to go and play again.

Nobody gives anything

without a change a reward.

Nobody gives anything

without a change a reward.

Only a friend can

love without giving.

Only a friend can

love without giving.

My mother, I sing at night

because the day I was punished.

And in the silence of things

I find the voice friend.

And in the silence of things

I find the voice friend.

My mother, I cry at night

this love in which I sink.

Because words of life

and no other world.

So I am this song

my mother, as a wound

that seen at night in my body

no destination, but with fado.

That seen at night in my body

Fado but with no destination.

Maybe I read fado

what I mean nobody.

And we pursue,

to hear him.

And we Pursuing

to hear him.

My love has sung

under heaven so superior.

Because I gave each fado

as if it were the first.

Perhaps I did not ask fado

everything that I,

therefore, even if I forget,

he does not forget who I am.

So even if I forget,

he does not forget who I am.

Not to see you cry

and see you cry now.

Not to see you cry

and see you cry now.

For wanting stronger,

want to see you at all times.

Flying over time

when you talk and I listen.

But the hours of our life

each have one minute.

Perm�tete be at my side

and not ever go again,

for my heart, poor,

living in a life time.

For my heart, poor,

living in a life time.

I am not afraid to fame,

Alfama with bad reputation.

I am not afraid to fame,

Alfama with bad reputation.

Fame sometimes defamed

Good people, honest people.

Fame sometimes defamed

Good people, honest people.

Fado, come with me,

fado hear this from the street.

Fado, come with me,

fado hear this from the street.

And sing desafi�ndoos

in a typical old town.

And sing desafi�ndoos

in a typical old town.

Come on, as I said,

you have to do at dawn

how good was that the evening

in the old Alfama district.

I am not afraid to fame

Alfama with the bad reputation.

I am not afraid to fame

Alfama with the bad reputation.

I know that the world was talking,

and true evil.

I know that the world was talking,

and true evil.

So it was not always true

what they were.

So it was not always true

what they were.

Many people there wore

a very quiet life

a form of evil

was dotted with mud.

Fame

sometimes defamed

Good people, honest people.

Fame sometimes defamed

Good people, honest people.

Fado this is mine and yours,

a destiny that bind us

while it is denied

the strings of a guitar.

Whenever you hear the wail

a guitar playing

we feel lost

who want to mourn.

Oh, people of my land,

Now I come to realize

I feel sad that this

The received from you.

And it would seem tenderness

if I leave Acu�a.

It would be more bitterness,

I sing less sad.

Oh, people of my land,

Now I come to realize

sadness that I feel

The received from you.