April 2013


Good to have walked behind a hand-plough with horses
As a boy, pestering the ploughman, and to have bathed
In a tin bath in the living-room. Good, too, to have known
How hard the past was, while being privileged in it.

[February 1954]
Your nurse could only speak Italian,
but after twenty minutes I could imagine your final week,
and tears ran down my cheeks….  (more…)

For years, to the red wine, my heart was bound
The Tavern became alive with my prayer and my sound.
See the Old Magi’s goodness, with us, the drunks,
Saw whatever we did, in everyone beauty had found.
Wash away all our knowledge with red wine,
Firmaments, themselves, the knowing minds hound. (more…)

The day we went to the sea
mothers in Madras were mining
the Marina for missing children. (more…)

O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Thro’ the clear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring! (more…)

Quem mostra’ bo
Ess caminho longe?
Quem mostra’ bo
Ess caminho longe?
Ess caminho
Pa Sao Tomé

Sodade sodade
Sodade
Dess nha terra Sao Nicolau

Si bo ‘screve’ me
‘M ta ‘screve be
Si bo ‘squece me
‘M ta ‘squece be
Até dia
Qui bo voltà

Sodade sodade
Sodade
Dess nha terra Sao Nicolau

Listen here: Sodade

Girls were crying yesterday in their ball gowns;
Holding each other up like poles of wilted beanstalks.
I wanted to carry them into the streets.  (more…)

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