cold sea shore
warmth of the rum in the glass
splashing waves, on the cold shore
can't see nothing,
it don't matter anyway
colours of a thousand odd hues, shades
a concoction of Konkani and English
of the foreigner's type, too, you see
cloth, ivory and tacky logos -
elephant beaches in Goa, they say?
sand in the shoes,
that's a song, she tells me
palm trees, or coconuts?
sunrise over the hills and sets in the sea
candle-lit tables scattered
on the cold sandy beach
we drink to good times...and bad;
nope, there can't be any of those
this is Goa,
sun, sussegado and joyful company
good times a-plenty, abundant
and yes, patraos, the rum, it helps too
