Sabado Aleluia

It was quiet in Rio,
The end of Lent.
Love had embraced me
During those forty nights.
I was denied nothing,
Saturday solitude was resurrected.
Love had gone.
What to do?
The deafening drums of Beija Flor,
The feverish dancing of samba,
Did not break the stillness.
Roaming through the Arcade,
Quaffing glasses of Cachaça,
Did not abate the loneliness.
What to do?
I went home,