Alfama

When Lisbon gets dark
like a sailboat without sails
Alfama all seems
A house without windows
Where the people cool down

It's in an attic
In the space stolen from sorrow
That Alfama closes
In four walls of water
Four walls of tears

Four walls of anxiety
That at night sing
That light up in the city
Closed in its disenchantment
Alfama smells of longing

Alfama doesn't smell of fado
It smells of people, of loneliness
It smells of wounded silence
Tastes of sadness with bread
Alfama doesn't smell of fado
But it has no other song.