Cartas à restinga 81InvitationCome visit me.
But bring along the red dirty roads, the burning afternoon sand, the wind, the wind.
Bring the dirt of happy times, the memories of summer loves, the certainty of those
days.
Come visit me.
Bring the faint music of the night parties, the scent of fish at sunset, the warm waters
of the golden lagoons.
Come visit me.
But bring along the color of hot skin, the soaked hair with the scent of fruit, the
many colors that decorate life.
Bring the beloved cousins, the eternal friends, the adventures of mud, salt and sugar.
Come visit me.
Bring the bright light that brought home rough hands, the ingenuous stories and the
easy smile of those who expect nothing.
Bring the clean sheets that dry on the fence, the fresh fish that is left at the front door,
the cold shower that soaks the damp clothes.
Come visit me.
Bring the morning light, the blue that surrounds the swaying trees, the mysteries of the
swamp, the scent of the black sand.
Bring the constellations of the warm nights, the swing of the hammock and the
sweet talks at the front porch.
Come... and bring along... my soul... that insists in staying there... in the wind... in the
wind...