THE STREET POETRY

Have you heard of Street Art ? Yes, many times isn't it.
But it was my first time to see the Street Poetry.

The path between the Belem Tower and the Monument to the Discoveries has some poetry. All I have ever seen on a street are directions, hints, signs. Never saw a poetry. The one with an intense thought.

Its about the river which is a mystery, a beautiful river in a village unknown. But it finds itself in comparison to a famous river called Tagus(Tejo in Portuguese) which originates in Spain and falls in the Atlantic Ocean in Portugal.

The path is raising many curiosities with the poem, especially when its talking about a river more beautiful than the one flowing next to it.

                                                              O Rio da Minha Aldeia

(A poem by Alberto Caeiro, one of the names of Fernando Pessoa)

O Tejo é mais belo que o rio que corre pela minha aldeia,
Mas o Tejo não é mais belo que o rio que corre pela minha aldeia
Porque o Tejo não é o rio que corre pela minha aldeia.
O Tejo tem grandes navios
E navega nele ainda,
Para aqueles que veem em tudo o que lá não está,
A memória das naus.
O Tejo desce de (da)Espanha
E o Tejo entra no mar em Portugal.
Toda a gente sabe isso.
Mas poucos sabem qual é o rio da minha aldeia
E para onde ele vai
E donde ele vem.
E por isso, porque pertence a menos gente,
É mais livre e maior o rio da minha aldeia.
Pelo Tejo vai-se para o Mundo.
Para além do Tejo há a América
E a fortuna daqueles que a encontram.
Ninguém nunca pensou no que há(está) para além
Do rio da minha aldeia.
O rio da minha aldeia não faz pensar em nada.
Quem está ao pé dele está só ao pé dele.

The Poem is expressing the Poet's missing for the river in his village, which no one knows about. Every one knows the river Tejo, which is very beautiful but it is not more beautiful than the river that flows through the poet's village. The Tejo has big ships which sails.  The Tejo coming from Spain is falling to the ocean in Portugal. Everyone knows that. But no one knows where is the river in my village going and where it comes from. And as it belongs to very few, its free and its the largest.

No one knows whats beyond the river Tejo. No one has been to the other side of the river Tejo and seen the beautiful river of my village. Very curiously, I was thinking where is this beautiful river. Is it as beautiful or more for the Poet's nostalgia. I have to find out one day.

It is not always what we see. There is an experience beyond what we see. 

I have to go to the other side of the river Tejo.