Best Lisbon Poems

I walk my life, a subway station
Where dirt consorts
The air around.
It pounds my nape,
It flames my mind
With sights and fates
And sounds.

Above, a tram goes up the alley
Tinged with canary hue.
Below, my wit:
What void, what valley:
It sank, in Tagus mused.

I take a seat, doors screech behind.
O,...

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Empty streets I walk  and walk
Aimed at the lonely riverside
There's nothing to think of, just stand there
Just stand there and quietly stare
At the water at my feet 
Struggling to flow down my face
While my favorite music plays.
 
Empty streets I walked and walked
To the...

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Lisboa é boa*. Yeah, Lisbon is good
at very long distance of dreams.
The shivering traveler pulls up his hood:
it seems that the traveller misunderstood
what’s autumn in Portugal. Streams

of water run volubly down the steep streets,
the wind searches pockets and sleeve,
the sheets hung to dry do not...

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Night in Lisbon 

Once, I went to a dance hall in Lisbon
 an awful place full of desperate middle-aged women
hoping to catch a man, any man.

Ah, for the horrible colours looking putrid on the wall
Was the music supplied by a jukebox when
the accordion was too...

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How beautiful and discreet, this port, at night,
When you listen to fado, come that voice, Misia
It becomes deep and mysterious, sonorous,
Its numerous lights are warm as wool.

How enchanting this port, at night, o night
Between the sea and the starry sky that sleeps,
Its illiterate cranes are...

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What a timeless charm Lisbon is
Meticulously set on the face  
Of seven hills with eyes  
That overlook the Tagus River.

The narrow, winding streets  
Tell a story of a culture so distinct
Different in many ways but hung on a single straw
Like the pieces...

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