A Guitarra do Fadista

As we prepare to leave Portugal, we are communing with the many beloved friends we have found here. Such friends are Jorge and Paula. Paula happens to be our landlord, but, she and Jorge have taken us on a low-tide walk along the river and then home through the mountains. They have taken us to a lesser known site, a place called Bonita with flamingos. The most precious of all, is the several times we have been invited into their home (just us) to hear the golden round tones of Jorge’s fado singing while he plays his guitar. We are privileged and blessed to have received this gift more than once. After last Wednesday’s visit, a poem arrived in my head (while I was trying to sleep, of course). Sempre vou manter boas memórias de Portugal.

Click on this link if you’d like to listen to Fado while you read: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_J-3HCCNr38
You will have to endure a 5 second ad, but, it’s worth it!

A Guitarra do Fadista

(The Fadista’s Guitar)
by Barbara Miller

Once I was new
A blushing young goddess
bursting to give,
untouched, full of promise
Your eyes twinkled brightly
Your smile gently grew
you caressed me securely
I was yours, I knew
You stroked my smooth neck
And tickled my belly
As your voice grew intense
with profound melancholy
Our notes rang together
Your voice, my chords
The saudade of fado
It’s pain as reward
I felt the sweet kiss
Of your rough fingertips
As all of my strings
quivered like lips
We rolled and we swirled
We reveled in rapture
both sorrow and passion
our union had captured
A few hours of heaven
Our talents combined
Then you tucked me away
‘Til another time

I sit in the dark
Under clutter and dust
Abandoned, neglected
Please hear me – you must!
You forget that you miss me
Your life full and fine
But ever connected
I’m yours, you are mine
Your lover is precious
To her I’m no threat
She craves the dark corners
only I can beget
It’s not in her fate
to fill your abyss but
When you cradle my curves
She soars in the bliss
No matter your mask
You cannot conceal
The ever-there void
I’m able to heal
Whispering softly yet firmly
Persistent as rain
You know that you want me
Come hold me again.

Some folks wonder why we are leaving if Portugal is so wonderful. And we agree that it is magnificent in many ways. I can only say to you, it’s like trying to explain the saudade of Fado – impossível.

Até logo – Beijinhos,

Jorge, Paula, us and Sra. Custódia (Paula’s mom)
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Posted in Leisure travel freedom, Living abroad, Stay as long as you like, writing

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