Olê, Olá

Don't cry yet, I have a guitar
And we will sing
Happiness here can come and listen
And if it's a samba, it will want to stay
Your priest rings the bell so everyone knows
That the night is young, that the samba is a child
That the pain is so old that it can die
Olê, olê, olê, olá
There's plenty of samba, who knows how to samba
Join the circle, show your moves
But be very careful, no crying

Don't cry yet, I have a reason
For you not to cry
Friend, forgive me if I insist in vain
But life is good for those who sing
My guitar, play loudly so everyone wakes up
Don't talk about life, don't talk about death
Have mercy on the girl, don't let her cry
Olê, olê, olê, olá
There's plenty of samba, who knows how to samba
Join the circle, show your moves
But be very careful, no crying

Don't cry yet, I have the feeling
That the samba is coming
It's such an immense samba that sometimes I think
That time itself will stop to listen
Moonlight, wait a moment for my samba to arrive
I know the guitar is weak, it's hoarse
But my voice hasn't stopped calling
Olê, olê, olê, olá
There's plenty of samba, no one wants to samba
No one sings anymore, there's no more room
The sun arrived before the samba
Those who pass by don't care, they're off to work
And you, my friend, can cry now