Canção do Expedicionário

Do you know where I come from?
I come from the hill, from the mill
From the jungles, from the coffee plantations
From the good land of coconut
From the hut where one is not enough
Two is good, three is too much

I come from the silky beaches
From the majestic mountains
From the pampas, from the rubber plantations
From the curly river banks
From the wild green seas
From my homeland

No matter how many lands I travel through
May God not allow me to die
Without returning there
Without carrying as a symbol
That V that symbolizes
The victory that will come

Our final victory
Which is the aim of my rifle
The ration in my bag
The water in my canteen
The wings of my ideal
The glory of my Brazil

I come from my land
From the white house on the hill
And the moonlight of my backlands
I come from my Maria
Whose name begins
In the palm of my hand

Warm arms of Moema
Honey lips of Iracema
Extended to me
Oh, my beloved land
Of Our Lady of Aparecida
And the Lord of Bonfim

No matter how many lands I travel through
May God not allow me to die
Without returning there
Without carrying as a symbol
That V that symbolizes
The victory that will come

Our final victory
Which is the aim of my rifle
The ration in my bag
The water in my canteen
The wings of my ideal
The glory of my Brazil

Do you know where I come from?
It's from a homeland that I have
In the body of my guitar
That by living in my chest
It even took on the shape
Of a huge heart

I left behind my land
My lemon, my lemon tree
My jacaranda tree
My tiny house
Up on the hill
Where the sabiá sings

No matter how many lands I travel through
May God not allow me to die
Without returning there
Without carrying as a symbol
That V that symbolizes
The victory that will come

Our final victory
Which is the aim of my rifle
The ration in my bag
The water in my canteen
The wings of my ideal
The glory of my Brazil

I come from beyond that hill
That still looks blue on the horizon
Where our love was born
From the shack next door
A coconut tree that, poor thing
Has already died of longing

I come from the most beautiful green
From the most golden yellow
From the bluest full of light
Full of silver stars
Kneeling in awe
Making the sign of the Cross

No matter how many lands I travel through
May God not allow me to die
Without returning there
Without carrying as a symbol
That V that symbolizes
The victory that will come

Our final victory
Which is the aim of my rifle
The ration in my bag
The water in my canteen
The wings of my ideal
The glory of my Brazil!