The Deep Waters

Silently on the banks of the Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

Water filled with tears of joy
rolled of an emotional bride's cheeks.
She's saying yes to a married life
dreams of sex while the priest still speaks.

The waves reflect the sound
of far gone music, dans and laughter
For their love and their compassion
suffered a steep decline thereafter.

Silently on the banks of the Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

Hilltops became small islands
in a human constructed lake.
The river gave a sailors funeral
to the village life that was at stake.

Down in the darkness of the valley
some pins still on a clothesline.
An ox plow buried under algae
the little roadside chapel became a shrine.

Silently on the banks of the  Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.

All memories are flushed to the sea
scattered by a high fall at the dam
for now there's just a quiet surface
hiding a tragic historic scam.

Where roads stop at the waterfront
and boats are launched to float
an old woman is imagining herself
the times when she didn't have a vote.

Silently on the banks of the  Zêzere
just watching the water flow.
Passing towns, dams and bridges
from a far away Galicia into the river Tejo.