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letra de morna - joel dias-porter

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every night i dive into a sleep
deep as the sea around sao vicente
to search for a woman who leaves footprints
in the dry sand of my dreams
a woman bold as badiu di santiago,
with eyes green as the trees of santo antao,
hair black as the beaches of fogo,
br–sts brown as the hills of sao nicolau
a woman wearing a dress white as sal,
neat as the streets of maio,
her mouth round as boavista,
legs slender as santa luzia,
feet tiny as brava.
i want to lie on her beach
while an airplane sews a white thread
across the sky’s blue silk
palm trees dance in a lazy breeze
and the white lips of wavеs l!ck my legs
with water warm as fresh milk
hеr kriolu tongue must be sweet as sugar cane
i want to press it between my lips
my heart skips quick as a koladera
as the atlantic hisses like a jealous hag
insisting these islands are only
ten pimples on a vast face
but aren’t these west africa’s fingertips
reaching towards america
reaching for me?
the moon shines like the underside of a tuna
an evil eye it curses me with a lunacy
tireless as the tide
a question glides through my mind like a seagull
will i ever taste her tongue?
i seek a woman who only leaves footprints
in the black sand of my dreams
my pen ploughs these crooked lines
across a barren page
i stack these parched stanzas
like terraces up the hillside of hope
the branches of all the trees
point in the direction of her passing
can you hear the breakers of blood
crashing across the rock of my heart
an ancient proverb says love is a marketplace
with as many women as the sea has sh-lls
but my grandmother says love
is stronger than bootleg rum
could even convince you to build a house
in a volcano’s mouth
i am a burru nightly circling the same sorry path
following footprints in the dry sand of dreams
every morning i spring awake
my heart a pilon pounding
and check to see if
she has left the word txuba,
glistening on my lips
like a kiss

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