to be portuguese

to be portuguese

is to be born with the fado around your neck

to live with your eyes anchored

to the open sea, longing for the outgoing tide

or for its incoming wave

living canned up between the sea and spain

exporting sardines

going to mass and forgetting the sermon

it’s confessing to friends

with a bottle in your hand

and not making waves

the ones that stir up the sea are enough

praying for peace

admiring fátima and batalha

in the same holy visit

to be portuguese is

to love your car more than yourself

and find it more affordable

to be portuguese is

to travel abroad josé

and come back joe

to be small

but with an eye for everything

to be portuguese is

not to be spanish

to be born with pains in there, poor thing, living

with pains right here in my side, doctor,

and dying with pains over there, god help us

it’s offering the barbecued chicken breast to the kids

and fighting off your own hunger with a few puny wings

leaving the nest when your whiskers are white

to be portuguese is

not to be any of this

but to say amen to it all

(…) — translated by Hugh Hazelton

excerpt from ser português by paulo da costa

Memória – An Anthology of Portuguese Canadian writers