Sampa

Something happens in my heart
That only when crossing Ipiranga and São João avenue
It's that when I arrived here I understood nothing
About the harsh concrete poetry of your corners
About the discreet inelegance of your girls

Rita Lee was not yet
Your most complete translation to me
Something happens in my heart
That only when crossing Ipiranga and São João avenue

When I faced you face to face, I didn't see my face
I called what I saw bad taste, bad taste, bad taste
It's that Narcissus finds ugly what is not a mirror
And the mind is terrified by what is not yet old
Nothing of what it was before when we are not Mutants

And you were a difficult beginning, I push away what I don't know
And those who come from another happy dream of a city
Quickly learn to call you reality
Because you are the opposite of the opposite of the opposite of the opposite

Of the oppressed people in lines, in villages, slums
Of the power of money that builds and destroys beautiful things
Of the ugly smoke rising, extinguishing the stars
I see your poets emerging from fields and spaces
Your workshops of forests, your rain gods

Pan-American utopian Africas, tomb of samba
More possible new Quilombo of Zumbi
And the Novos Baianos stroll in your drizzle
And new Bahians can enjoy you just fine