Translated by A. Z. Foreman - Portuguese Fort lyrics

Behind the elegant tipped palisade, The plaza's hot enamel plate slopes low. For admiration the seraglio Bends over the alabaster balustrade Convinced that many a tender detail lies Unveiled in tulle dusk where the heavens fade. Over the handheld fan, a flicker of eyes As red lips slurp away at lemonade. The general commands a cannonade Of welcome. No shots fire. Still as d**h's shade. A hero is not proven in bravado Of restless din, but in the bastinado Of negro slaves, the whip on the black body Under the cheer of 'Viva Liberdade'