For JC, Mark and Christine which mailed about a translation of FADO...thanks for your interest and here it is.
In Portugal, when
tears of pain
for a wilted love
run down their faces...
portugueses don't let
the hurt inside bite off
from their souls
the last tender grace;
no, they will sing a quetch
of sadness that scratches
the flesh like thorns
of forgetfulness made.
The echoes of this song
are complains of flowers,
tender kisses on the lips,
long, so long ago erased...
they aren't complains
of sadness or despair,
just farewell words
that can't be replaced
by memories of yesterdays
believed "undying" love,
which are leaving behind
of tears...the salty taste.
FADO is the song's name,
which you only can understand
if you were wounded after
an unreciprocated love's chase...
hear the singing that
Ulysses heard from Cirse,
a lover's painful song
like a mourning dove's grace;
close your eyes and hear
the rasping voice, and...
if you understood, with a
lonely tear you should paid.
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
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Yes, "FADO" is "A song named FADO"...
The "FADO" and its history. There is a similarity FADO-JAZZ-FADO -- except for the rhythm,-- when one analyses their expressions and feelings.
"A song named FADO" has delivered a page of history in poetic grand.
I salute You, Poet.
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Warmest regards,
CJ