Lisbon, City of Light and Longing

 

Upon seven hills you softly gleam,

A golden city by the stream,

Where Tagus whispers to the sea,

And dreams are sung in melody.

Through Alfama’s maze of cobbled lanes,

Fado drifts in wistful strains,

A voice of love, of loss, of time—

Lisbon weeps, yet feels sublime.

Yellow trams through steep streets wind,

Past azulejos, old yet kind,

They rattle by with tender grace,

As sunsets paint your gentle face.

Belém’s tower guards the shore,

Of sailors’ tales and ancient lore,

Jerónimos stands proud and wide,

With faith and stone entwined inside.

Beneath your light, so soft, so rare,

Each heart finds peace within your air,

Lisbon, where the past still sings—

A city crowned with dawn’s gold rings.

   

                                 — Meenakshi Singh