Aquela azenha velhinha
Na margem da ribeirinha
Que por vales serpenteia
Foi testemunha impassível
Da tragédia mais horrível
Que houvera na minha aldeia
Naquela noite de inverno
O céu parecia um inferno
Estavam os astros em guerra
E a ribeira mal sustinha
A grande cheia que vinha
Pelas vertentes da serra
Vendo a ribeira a subir
O moleiro quis fugir
Levando o filho nos braços
Pela ponte carcomida
Já velhinha e ressequida
A desfazer-se em pedaços
Mas ai, a ponte quebrou-se
E o moleiro como fosse
Na cheia da ribeirinha
Levou o filho consigo
E nunca mais moeu trigo
Aquela azenha velhinha
J. Frederico de Brito (Fado da Azenha)
That old water mill
On the riverside
That through valleys snakes
He was an impassive witness
The most horrible tragedy
That there had been in my village
That winter night
The sky looked like hell
The stars were at war
And the brook hardly sustains
The big flood that came
From the hillsides
Seeing the river to climb
The miller wanted to escape
Carrying the child in his arms
By the rotten bridge
Already old and dry
Throwing it apart
But then, the bridge broke
And the miller as he was
In the flood of the riverside
He took the child with him.
And never again did wheat
That old water mill
