Homage to Portugal and to Lisbon... strictly in Portuguese... A LUZ LUSA The fixed gaze on the astonishing waves of the Atlantic, a shameless and brazen face, unconcerned by its marvellous stylistic decadence, Portugal hides a shining and impudent pearl, its majestic capital: Lisbon. Perhaps it is that atmosphere of the nineteenth century without going any further, perhaps it is the sad eyes, yet full of light, of the Portuguese people, perhaps it is the incredible panoramas that can be admired from its seven hills, or perhaps it is the chimerical glimmer of the waters of the Tagus where the dreams of that remote and modern city awake... perhaps it is all these things, or perhaps the essential fact that I am madly in love with her.
From the summits of the old Arab quarter of Alfama, down in the heart of Rossio, sitting in a café in the Chiado district tasting the red tears of port, or from the door of the Praça do Comércio, the light of that love invades me and leaves me speechless. Accompanied by the melancholy notes of Fado, we let ourselves sink into the dark fragrances of that red nectar, listening to what the great Fernando Pessoa must tell us and finally waiting for another sunset to lead us to dream of returning to Lisbon.
Day 131 Dec 2006
...lisboa ...in Spanish
LUZ LUSA
Gazing fixedly at the astonishing waves of the Atlantic, a face of shameless cheekiness, unconcerned with its wonderful stylistic decadence, Portugal hides a brilliant and unrestrained pearl, its majestic capital: Lisbon. It will be that atmosphere of the nineteenth century without progress, it will be the sad but luminous eyes of the Portuguese people, it will perhaps be the shocking panoramas glimpsed from its seven hills, or perhaps it will be the chimerical sparkle of the waters of the Tagus River where the dreams of this remote and modern city lie down... it will be all those things or perhaps the simple and essential fact of being madly in love with her.
From the peaks of the old Arab quarter of Alfama, down in the heart of Rossio, sitting in a café in the Chiado district savouring the red tears of port or from the portal of Praça de Comércio, the light of this love invades me and leaves me speechless. Accompanied by the melancholic notes of Fado, we let ourselves sink into the trembling fragrances of that garnet nectar, listening to what the great Fernando Pessoa has to tell us and finally waiting for another sunset to make us dream of returning to Lisbon.
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