last night of bela vista

macau against the dim of night ©papa osmubal

macau against the dim of night ©papa osmubal

last night of bela vista
agnes lam

I came from such a city
when I came
to the high place
the aged building was dim against the sea
men from the Atlantic ocean were cherishing a history
Chinese and Portuguese were arguing
whether it was handover or transition
let us toss down this half glass of red wine
for our condolences to the Bela Vista
thinking of this hundred year old hotel
in the new phase of our history
one has to keep herself for the one representative of one country
as a married virgin a little wife
the Jazz players could hardly contain their sadness
kept playing the postcolonial Fado
the waiter in white starch
walked out towards columns in the khaki corridor
watered the oleander deeper red than the wine
the flowers were counting
the number of shadows
rained down with the mist
in the deeps of the haze
dazzling lights at the end of the corridor
the Bela views were all gone
on the ceiling of the corridor
no colour dropped from the pure white of the hanging fan
it turned around like the still days that never began
there was no today and no tomorrow
no tears and no need to say goodbye
but life had to start from the Fado of the farewell dinner
the first song was not ended yet
the clandestine couple had tossed down their glasses
the dry reds eyes had told each other
to keep tonight
to do that under the oleander tree
like the plot of the hackneyed war time love movie
history could be like this
like the never ended invasion and the evacuation
these in a circle
remembering there was a tomorrow
the lingering couple under the oleander went back to the long table
let us forget the fragrance of oleander in the ecstasy of wine
let the jazz players in red be our backdrop
and sit still like the perfumed and gorgeous colonial picture
under the light of the tossing glasses
the silver knives had drawn out lines and delicate lines
men and women were elegantly dressed
the blood of the meat on snow white china
clammy and bloody
let us toss it down
and toss down the Bela Vista
we cannot adore anymore

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