| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| The moon rises behind the green forest
|
| More like a silver sun, silvering the immensity
|
| And we take the viola and punctuate
|
| And the song is a full moon, to our hearts are born
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| But how beautiful it is to see later, among the bush
|
| Sliding down the stream calmly, transparent as a veil
|
| In the blue bed of its waters murmuring
|
| In turn, stealing the stars from the sky
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| Most beautiful thing in this world doesn't exist
|
| Than to hear a sad rooster, in the sertão there is moonlight
|
| It even looks like the soul of the moon that descends
|
| Hidden in the throat of this sobbing rooster
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| Oh, how I miss the moonlight of my land
|
| There in the whitening dry leaves on the floor
|
| This moonlight here in the city is so dark
|
| You don't have that longing for the moonlight from the sertão
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão
|
| There is not, oh people, oh, no
|
| Moonlight like this from the sertão |