Olavo Bilac (1919)
You possess, at times, the sovereign flame
of love, enclosing within rhythm, alight
in one’s hips and in impure enchantments,
all spells of humanity’s temptations’ might.
Yet amidst this desire, there wanders a sadness
from the deserts, the jungles, and the sea:
barbaric poracé, African banzo, and
bitter Portuguese ballads’ memory.
You are samba and jongo, xiba and fado,
whose harmonies are the wishes and abandonments
of savages, captives, and the seafaring.
Thus you became longing and passions,
lascivious pain, the kiss of three saudades,
the loving flower of three melancholic suns.
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