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Trio Xamego

Olho D'águaWater Spring

Trio Xamego · Novinho em Folha Brand New (2005)

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Composer: Trio Xamego

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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

Ô Jão Silva olho d´água é bem ali perto d arco verde

Você não acha que arco verde rica com alcool verde não.

Eu tenho é saudade de Gonzaga nessa puxada do baixo, viu João

Eui nao queria chamar Leocadio mas ..


Ouro velho, mundo novo o sitio olha d´água é bem ai

quem vai pra cidade do Monteiro para São José do Egito e eu aqui

e saudade ou distancia,

meus amores minha infancia

e saudade ou distancia,

meu amores minha infancia

meu boi de barro, minha vaquinha de osso

meu cural de pedra,

que saudade moço de correr pelas caatingas,

tomar banho de açude

jogar bola de meio , pano ou bola de gude

meus quixós feitos de madeiras ,

minhas caçadas de baleiera

sera que ainda venho,

será que ainda venho,

ouvir aqueles sons das velhas moendas de engenhos

sera que ainda venho,

será que ainda venho,

ouvir aqueles sons das velhas moendas de engenhos


e saudades

Translation

Oh, Jão Silva, the Olho d'Água is right there near Arco Verde

Don't you think Arco Verde is rich with green alcohol, no?

I'm just longing for Gonzaga in this pull of the bass, you see, João

I didn't want to call Leocadio but...


Old gold, new world, the Olho d'Água farm is right there

Whoever goes to the city of Monteiro, to São José do Egito, and me here

It's longing or distance,

my loves, my childhood

It's longing or distance,

my loves, my childhood

My clay ox, my bone cow

My stone corral,

what longing, young man, to run through the caatingas,

to bathe in the dam

to play with a rag ball, cloth or marbles

My shacks made of wood,

my hunts with baleiera

Will I still come,

will I still come,

to hear those sounds of the old mill grinders

Will I still come,

will I still come,

to hear those sounds of the old mill grinders


It's longing

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