The Mina is Cocoriô
Parawara witchcraft
The same Moon from Turkey
On the crossing, was enchanted
The sea breeze guides me, fearless
To a scented bath
At the crossroads, foam of the sea
Made the mururé flower bloom

Pororoca carries me
To the depths of the igarapé
Dodge the arrow, don’t cling to puraqué
Those made of clay, in the igapó, are Caruana
The boto whistles, oh, the Water Mother dances

If the Boiúna stirs, it’s a raging tide, ranging ide
Four beads, a headdress
Hail, Arara Cantadeira
A butterfly lurking
And the jaguar of Grão-Pará
If the Boiúna stirs, it’s a raging tide
Four beads, a headdress
Hail, Singing Macaw
A butterfly lurking
And the jaguar of Grão-Pará

In the babaçuê curimba
There’s a legion of ajuremados
The Codoense macaia is macumba from another side
Come and see the Three Princesses dancing to the curimbó
It’s the saint’s doctrine spinning in my carimbó

And so it was
Their swords hold the herbs of the jurema
New destinies in the same poem
And in the terreiros, the scent of patchouli
Light the ember of the incense burner
For the master to drum his faith
Festive night, curió from Marajó
Protects Caxias in the waters of Nazaré

It’s the strength of caboclo, vodum, and orixá
My people turn just like in the dance
Call Jarina, Herondina, and Mariana
Grande Rio sets the samba in the Tambor de Mina
It’s the strength of caboclo, vodum, and orixá
My people turn just like in the dance
Call Jarina, Herondina, and Mariana
Grande Rio sets the samba in the Tambor de Mina

The Mina is Cocoriô
Parawara witchcraft
The same Moon from Turkey
On the crossing, was enchanted
The sea breeze guides me, fearless
To a scented bath
At the crossroads, foam of the sea
Made the mururé flower bloom

Pororoca carries me
To the depths of the igarapé
Dodge the arrow, don’t cling to puraqué
Those made of clay, in the igapó, are Caruana
The boto whistles, oh, the Water Mother dances

If the Boiúna stirs, it’s a raging tide, ranging ide
Four beads, a headdress
Hail, Arara Cantadeira
A butterfly lurking
And the jaguar of Grão-Pará
If the Boiúna stirs, it’s a raging tide
Four beads, a headdress
Hail, Singing Macaw
A butterfly lurking
And the jaguar of Grão-Pará

In the babaçuê curimba
There’s a legion of ajuremados
The Codoense macaia is macumba from another side
Come and see the Three Princesses dancing to the curimbó
It’s the saint’s doctrine spinning in my carimbó

And so it was
Their swords hold the herbs of the jurema
New destinies in the same poem
And in the terreiros, the scent of patchouli
Light the ember of the incense burner
For the master to drum his faith
Festive night, curió from Marajó
Protects Caxias in the waters of Nazaré

It’s the strength of caboclo, vodum, and orixá
My people turn just like in the dance
Call Jarina, Herondina, and Mariana
Grande Rio sets the samba in the Tambor de Mina
It’s the strength of caboclo, vodum, and orixá
My people turn just like in the dance
Call Jarina, Herondina, and Mariana
Grande Rio sets the samba in the Tambor de Mina

It’s the strength of caboclo, vodum, and orixá
My people turn just like in the dance
Call Jarina, Herondina, and Mariana
Grande Rio sets the samba in the Tambor de Mina

The Mina is Cocoriô
The Mina is Cocoriô
The Mina is Cocoriô
The Mina is Cocoriô