Lisboa
Terra de todos e ninguém.
A que Deus deu o encanto.
A ti, cidade ninguém
Nua de mim em pranto
És luz divina de sol
E triste...
Tão triste de vento.
Mas é assim Lisboa, doída de choro
Que encaminho a alma do meu fado
Em direcção aos becos do teu corpo.

Não és minha, não, Lisboa
És de Deus e Além,
Do mar e Universo.

Lisboa.
Já te escreveram de paixões
Corpos ardendo... por ti!
E eu que já te cantei em versos sonhados!

Mas é assim Lisboa......





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