The Serene world
In the little corner of the world where I live far from airports,
military establishment and the liberal middle class among people
who at heart are flag nationalists and proud to be Portuguese.
They are not too fond of foreigners who for the most part are British
who are quite happy not having to mingle with anyone.
I having lived here forever is accepted as the strange silent man who,
when he speaks, sounds funny and rumours has it that he writes
which never fail to impress none readers.
So here you have a post-card picture of an idyllic village tucked away
in a valley, and the nearest it ever came to war was a bewildered plane
flew low overhead the houses shock
brought people out of houses talking excitedly about the near accident.
But in the tiny cottage unpainted and rustic, there is near starvation,
and if the winter is long the old die of cold and church bells toll.