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Alceu Valença

Ciranda De Mãe NinaCiranda of Mother Nina

Alceu Valença · Quadrafônico Quadraphonic (1972)

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Composer: Alceu Valença, Geraldo Azevedo

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Translations are AI-generated and may contain inaccuracies — especially with Brazilian cultural expressions, regional slang, and short phrases, where it is hard for the AI to grasp the context. Still, we hope it helps you follow along with the music. If you spot something that could be improved, get in touch!

The English translation is below the Portuguese lyrics

Full lyrics

Foi numa ciranda

Na estrada de Paulista

Lá pras bandas de Olinda

Laço branco no cabelo

Da menina Severina

Da menina Severina


Navegando no seu corpo

Emoldurado pela chita

Com seu corpo navegando

No terreiro de Mãe Nina

Com seu corpo navegando

No terreiro de Mãe Nina


Ô cirandeiro, ô cirandeiro


Onde anda aquela estrada

De Paulista ou de Olinda?

Onde laço onde fita

Lenço branco da menina?

Onde a voz do cirandeiro?

Veste chita Severina?

Onde anda meu irmão?

A ciranda se acabando

O sol mordendo a madrugada

No compasso da lembrança

Eu aqui sem esperança

Sem ciranda ou cirandá


Ô cirandeiro, ô cirandeiro


Vim do Recife

Um rapaz me perguntou

Se na ciranda que eu vou

Se tinha muitas morenas

Eu disse tem

Dessas morenas, mulata

Dessas que a morte mata

E depois chora com pena

Translation

It was in a ciranda

On the road to Paulista

Over towards Olinda

A white ribbon in the hair

Of the girl Severina

Of the girl Severina


Sailing on her body

Framed by chita fabric

With her body sailing

In the yard of Mother Nina

With her body sailing

In the yard of Mother Nina


Oh ciranda dancer, oh ciranda dancer


Where is that road

To Paulista or Olinda?

Where is the ribbon, where is the tape

The girl's white scarf?

Where is the ciranda dancer's voice?

Does Severina wear chita?

Where is my brother?

The ciranda is ending

The sun biting the dawn

In the rhythm of memory

I am here without hope

Without ciranda or cirandá


Oh ciranda dancer, oh ciranda dancer


I came from Recife

A young man asked me

If in the ciranda I go to

If there were many dark-haired girls

I said there are

Of these dark-haired girls, mulatto

Of those that death kills

And then cries with pity

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