Mãe Preta

Wrinkled skin, white kinky hair
Lace apron falling on the hip
Rocking the cradle of the master's child
That not long ago the mistress received

That's how the black mother used to do it
Raising all the white with great joy
But in the slave quarters her little black child was beaten
Black mother drying one more tear

Black mother, black mother

While the whip struck her love
Black mother rocked the white child of the master