Nagasaki Mon Amour

 

There are moments when things become clear,
I sat on deck, a night when the Pacific Ocean was, as its name, calm;
listened to the heartbeat of the ship, which seemed to beat faster
when one of the engineers opened the door and came out on deck.
I heard laughter from the mess-room, they were playing cards
but I knew I would never be one of them,
I had tried, the swagger and the misogyny,
living in a world where women were either whores or mothers.
The ship was bound for Nagasaki, which for the young crew meant little,
but I had been here before and visited a graveyard
where Portuguese sailors had died long time ago
when Japan was an unknown land.
At fifty I was a relic and accepted that.
Walking down the gangway,
I didn’t bother to look back,
didn’t shake anyone’s hand—
it was dinner time anyway.
Before flying back to Europe I tried to find the Portuguese cemetery,
it wasn’t there anymore; another relic gone.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JX761tYiGg