Composer: Luiz Gonzaga, Humberto Teixeira
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The English translation is below the Portuguese lyrics
Full lyrics
Já faz três noites que pro norte relampeia
E a asa branca ouvindo o ronco do trovão
Já bateu asas e voltou pro meu sertão
Ai, ai, eu vou-me embora, vou cuidar da prantação
Já bateu asas e voltou pro meu sertão
Ai, ai, eu vou-me embora, vou cuidar da prantação
A seca fez eu desertar da minha terra
Mas felizmente Deus agora se alembrou
De mandar chuva pra esse sertão sofredor
Sertão das muié séria, dos home trabalhador
De mandar chuva pra esse sertão sofredor
Sertão das muié séria, dos home trabalhador
Rios correndo, as cachoeira tão zoando
Terra molhada, mato verde, que riqueza
E a asa branca, tarde canta, que beleza
Ai, ai, o povo alegre, mais alegre a natureza
E a asa branca, tarde canta, que beleza
Ai, ai, o povo alegre, mais alegre a natureza
Sentindo a chuva, eu me arrescordo de Rosinha
A linda frô do meu sertão pernambucano
E se a safra não atrapaiá meus pranos
Quê que há, aí ô Seu Vigário, vou casar no fim do ano
E se a safra não atrapaiá meus pranos
Quê que há, aí ô Seu Vigário, vou casar no fim do ano
Translation
It's been three nights since it's been lightning in the north
And the white-winged dove hearing the roar of thunder
Has already flapped its wings and returned to my backlands
Oh, oh, I'm going away, I'm going to take care of the planting
Has already flapped its wings and returned to my backlands
Oh, oh, I'm going away, I'm going to take care of the planting
The drought made me desert my land
But fortunately God has now remembered
To send rain to this suffering backlands
Backlands of serious women, of hardworking men
To send rain to this suffering backlands
Backlands of serious women, of hardworking men
Rivers running, the waterfalls so buzzing
Wet land, green forest, what a wealth
And the white-winged dove, late sings, what a beauty
Oh, oh, the people happy, the nature happier
And the white-winged dove, late sings, what a beauty
Oh, oh, the people happy, the nature happier
Feeling the rain, I remember Rosinha
The beautiful flower of my Pernambuco backlands
And if the harvest doesn't mess up my plans
What's up, hey Mr. Vicar, I'm getting married at the end of the year
And if the harvest doesn't mess up my plans
What's up, hey Mr. Vicar, I'm getting married at the end of the year
