Saudade

Saudade: "A pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy" - Manuel de Melo.

The sun rises over the southern region of Portugal. A radiant gold washes over the countryside, smiling on the rows of grapes that grow fat with the warm nectar of the harvest. Or the never ending orchards cluttered with the regional products.

Every inch of the landscape holds the country’s most precious commodities. Cork and olive trees wait for the farmer to pick their fruits and delicately craft them for the world to enjoy.

Even the cows seem enthused to roam at the break of dawn. Perhaps they know the country is asleep and they must soak in this moment before the regular faces drive by to check up. I see the same fields and skies at home, but these..these are special. The grounds hold a more succulent green. And the skies dance alongside the countrymen. If you listen closely, you can almost hear it. Can you hear it now? Close your eyes and clear your mind.

As you reach the top of the hill, I know you’ll hear it. In the distance, like the gentle caress of Severa, you can hear the sweet sound of saudade. In the patchwork of purple and yellow flowers. In the rolling hills. In the vast sea of green, or perhaps the vastness of the sea itself. I hear it in my heart now.

It plucks on the strings around my heart like a well worn guitarra player. It’s hard to place the word, but the feeling is one I know well. It’s been 7 months now since I’ve seen my home. 7 months since I’ve been able to experience the land as I have here.

Some nights I hear Severa’s call from my window, but when I lean out to catch her, I am met with a distant whisper. I hear her say that my home is years away. My bed is cold and my mother is alone, weeping to the moon for my return. Each night, I ask her why she comes and brings me such sadness. With a sly smile, she lifts her guitarra and sings me the song of saudade.

 I’ve learned to enjoy its haunting lines, and yet it still manages to wrap its chill fingers around my heart and send its cries coursing through my veins.

Maybe some day I will sing it to you. But for now, you must listen closely for its call. Look towards the sky and think of me and perhaps, you’ll hear my saudade.