Elba Ramalho — Caldeirão Dos Mitos song lyrics and translation

The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Caldeirão Dos Mitos" by Elba Ramalho.

Lyrics

Eu vi o céu à meia-noite
Se avermelhando num clarão
Como incêndio anunciado
No apocalipse de São João
Porém não era nada disso
Era um Curisco, era um Lampião
Eu vi um risco nos espaços
Era um revôo do sanhaçu
Eu vi o dia amanhecendo
No ronco do maracatu
Não era lança de São Jorge
Era o espinho do mandacaru
Eu vi o som na escadaria
Dó, ré, mi, fá, sol, lá, si, dó
Não era o eco das trombetas
De Josué e Jericó
Era um fole de oito baixos
A tocar numa noite de forró
(A Fogueira tá queimando
Em homenagem a São João
O Forró já começou
Vamos gente rapa pé nesse salão)
Eu vi o sol ao meio-dia
No meio do chão do Ceará
Não era o coro dos Arcanjos
Nem era a voz de Jeová
Era uma cascavel armando o bote
Balançando o maracá
Vi um magrelo amarelado
Passando a perna no patrão
Não foi ninguém da Inglaterra
Nem de Paris, nem do Japão
Era Pedro Malazarte
Era João Grilo e era Cancan
Vi uma mão fazer o barro
Um homem forte
Um homem nu
Um homem branco como eu
Um homem preto como tu
Porém não foi a mão de Deus
Foi Vitalino de Caruaru

Lyrics translation

I saw the sky at midnight
Reddening in a flash
As announced Fire
In the apocalypse of St. John
But it was nothing like that
It was a Curisco, it was a lamppost
I saw a risk in the spaces
It was a revôo of sanhaçu
I saw the day dawning
In the snoring of the maracatu
It was not St. George's spear
It was the thorn of the mandacaru
I saw the sound on the stairs
Dó, dó, mi, fá, sol, la, si, dó
It was not the echo of the trumpets
From Joshua and Jericho
It was an eight-bass bellows
Playing a night of forró
(The fire is burning
In honor of St. John
The Forró has already begun
Let's shave foot in this hall)
I saw the sun at noon
In the middle of the Ceará floor
It wasn't the Archangel choir.
Nor was it The Voice of Jehovah
It was a rattlesnake arming the boat
Swinging the maraca
I saw a thin yellowish
Passing the leg on the boss
It was no one from England
Neither Paris nor Japan
It Was Pedro Malazarte
It was John Grilo and it was Cancan
I saw a hand make the clay
A strong man
A naked man
A white man like me
A black man like you
But it was not the hand of God
It was Vitalino of Caruaru