FRI 10 NOV 21h30

  SAT 11 NOV 21h30

  SUN 12 NOV 18H00

popular Portuguese music
Clube de Tavira 

On the down train / But what splendid revelry!
Some sleeping, some dreaming, / And the rest neither one nor the other...On the down train / From Palmela to Portimão ...
                             In Poesia de Álvaro de Campos 

Anapi is accompanied by Stelmo Barbosa; Argenis Nunes; Merícia Lucas          
The poetry of Fernando Pessoa has been set to music in many countries, not only in Portuguese speaking ones. Therefore, selecting this repertoire has not been complicated. The show is constructed between Brazil and Portugal with Pessoa's poetry forming the bridge. The Portuguese repertoire includes tunes by composers from the Algarve. 

Poetas cantados por ANAPI . Os Argonautas . Festa dos Anos de Álvaro de Campos 2017

Poetas cantados por ANAPI . Comboio Descendente . Festa dos Anos de Álvaro de Campos 2017

Poetas cantados por Anapi NEVOEIRO . Festa dos Anos de Álvaro de Campos 2017



Foto banda completa POETAS CANTADOS



Ana Pi Singer and songwriter with training in Music and New Technologies in 1996; Choreographer of dance and percussion performances with training in contemporary movement 98/2002; Teacher of dance and corporal expression for elementary school from 2003 to 2010 and for kindergarten from 2012 to 2017; Since 2003 haS BEEN Creating workshops and theatre plays about  civic and environmental consciousness directed to the age group from 3 to 10 years. Stelmo Barbosa. A native of the city of Angola in Indiana, Stelmo Barbosa has lived in Tavira since childhood. He is a musician who has chosen the flute and guitar as his instruments. He is a founder-member of the cultural association Rock da Baixa Mar dedicated to the promotion of rock music and to the support of musical groups in Tavira, and is one of the promoters of Maré de Contos (“tide of stories”), a festival of oral narration. He is also one of the creators and programmers of the Sergio Metre Festival, which has taken place twice in Tavira.




Poem: Manuel Alegre e António Barahona da Fonseca

Music: Zeca Afonso

Originally recorded in 1952 on the album “Baladas de Coimbra”


My love is a sailor,

And lives on the high seas,

His arms are like the wind,

Nobody can tie them up.


Lord poet, Let’s dance,

Comets fall,

On the high seas.


Zebras run,

Elves fly,

Rocks are thrown,

Teeth are pulled.


Lord poet …


Release the sails, Let’s depart,

Comets fall,

On the high seas.




Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Tiago Machado

It belongs to the album “The messengers” of 2013 that counts on the participation of several Portuguese musicians and actors

Lyric Poetry by Fernando Pessoa


Your voice speaks lovingly …

So sweet, that I forget

That your soft prose is false.

My heart is not sad anymore.

Yes, as the music suggests

What is not in the music.

My heart just wants

The melody that is in you …

To love me? Who would believe that? You speak

In the same voice that says nothing

If you are a music that rocks me.

I listen, I ignore, and I’m happy.

Nor is there false happiness,

While true happiness lasts

What matters what the truth exalts

If I am happy this way?





Poem: Joaquim Morgado

Music: Joaquim Morgado

Poet, versatile musician, Farense composer.

A love fado with an ocean separating the couple.



You are my anchor,

You are my cornerstone.

My pyramid of pleasure.


You are my song.

You are my desire, my wonder,

You are.

I love you so much so much, so much


You are my Love,

My tricolour scarf,

You are my flame, my flag and modesty

Disoriented, broken and crazy.

You’re my passionate part,

You are my Fado.









Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Dori Caymmi

Written in 1933 set to music for the recod “Música em Pessoa” in 1985


This poem by Fernando Pessoa knows how to transport us into his feelings. The river passes and I trust … Some certainties that we have are simple and this gives us assurance. Life follows its course, just like a river and we learn to flow with it.



By the stream of this river,

Or by the stream of that one,

My days pass by nonstop,

Nothing stops me, impels me,

Nor makes me feel hot or cold


I live what the river does,

When the river just does nothing,

I see the traces it brings,

In a slow sequence,

Of what was left behind.


I see and I meditate,

Not about the passing river,

But just about my own thoughts,

Because its good deed is that it makes

Me blind to what’s passing by.


I go on the riverside,

It is here or it is there.

And on its course I trust,

Because if I saw it or if I didn’t

It passes and I trust it did.


It passes and I trust.

It passes and I trust.

It passes and I trust.





Poem: Álvaro de Campos  

Music: Murilo Alvarenga

Translations John Coston & Tela Leão 


This is a chronicle that tells us a story in a restaurant.


One day, in a restaurant, outside space or time,

They served me love as cold tripe.

I said delicately to the missionary from the kitchen

That I preferred it hot,


That tripe (and this was Porto style) is never eaten cold.

They became impatient with me.


You can never be right, not in a restaurant.

I didn’t eat, I didn’t order anything else. I paid the bill,

I walked the length f the street.

Who knows what this means?

I don’t know, and it was myself it happened to …

I have known this on many occasions

But, if I asked for love,

Why did they bring me cold tripe Porto style?


It’s not a dish that can be eaten cold,

But they brought it to me cold.

I didn’t complain, but it was cold,

It can never be eaten cold, but it came cold.





Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Caetano Veloso

Recorded for the homonymous album “Caetano Veloso” of 1969.


This is a famous text by Fernando Pessoa, the kind of text that gets incorporated into the the cultural memory of a people. I quote from memory: “Old navigators had a motto: navigating is necessary, living is not necessary. I want this motto, adapting it to my life and my mission in the world: living is not necessary, what is necessary is to create . “

Some people interpret the sentence with the other meaning of the word “precise”. Sailing is precise. One can use precision instruments to sail. However, living … is never precise. We never have full control over life.

In any case the poem tell us about the importance of breaking with repetition, with the routine and invites us to enjoy life to the fullest. Otherwise living would be to pass through existence without accepting such challenges, having a more comfortable, and less interesting posture.


The boat!

My heart cannot handle

So much storm, joy

My heart does not satisfy

The day, the mark, my heart

The port, no! …


Sailing is precise

Living is not precise


The boat!

Night on your, so beautiful.

Loose and lost smile

Horizon, dawn

The laughter, the curve of dawn

The port, nothing! …


Sailing is precise

Living is not precise


The boat!

The brilliant automobile

The loose rail, the noise

From my teeth biting your vein

The blood, the puddle, the slow noise

The port, silence! …


Sailing is precise, Living is not precise …





Poem: Joaquim Morgado

Music: Joaquim Morgado

Poet, musician and composer from Algarve


This song is a romantic dream of a love that was lived and now is felt.

A dream granting a desire,  materializing, accepting it.


If that blue star shines in the blue of the sky,

Cause the night is blacks,

If the blue star belonged to me,

I would give it away …


And this crazy rose that makes me crazy and goes,

Dissolve on the air into petals of me,

If this beautiful and crazy rose was me,

Oh, I would give it away …


Ah! If of this flower without smell or colour,

I could say the name,

I would look  for it in a garden,

I would steal it and bring it next to me

To give you.

And if then the star, the rose and this flower,

In a crazy ballet they danced in your sleep,

I would steal the moon,

For you to dream of…


And then, when I woke up in the morning

The star would slowly depart,

The rose would disappear in thin air,

The moon was going to be born elsewhere,

And a heart, as a flower bud, would stop crying.









Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Tom Jobim

Music for the 1985 “Música em Pessoa” album


From the Valley to the Mountain is an esoteric and initiatory poem by Fernando Pessoa, dated from 1932. Pessoa’s interest in esotericism is said to have started in 1915. Specially  on theosophy, a philosophical theory very fashionable at the time. Pessoa  said he believed in worlds superior to ours with inhabitants that would  experience several degrees of spirituality.


A mountain that connects the earthly world to the divine world, a sacred mountain that gives access to forbidden knowledge, denied  to mortals, is certainly a metaphor, because in fact the ascension is internal as well as external.

The “knight-monk” refers to the image of the Knights Templar – monks and soldiers at the same time. The poem describes an initiatory course, full of obstacles, that the monk-knight and his horse of shadow travel.


From valley to mountain, From mountain to hill

Horse of shadow, monk-knight

By houses, by meadows, By farms and by fountains

Allied ways


From valley to mountain, From mountain to hill

Horse of shadow, monk-knight

By black cliffs, Behind and opposite

Secret ways


From valley to mountain, From mountain to hill

Horse of shadow, monk-knight

By deserted meadows, Without having horizons

You walk free


From valley to mountain, From mountain to hill

Horse of shadow, monk-knight

By way of paths, By rivers without bridges

You walk alone


From valley to mountain, From mountain to hill

Horse of shadow, monk-knight

For all that is endless, With no one to tell,

You walk in me.





Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Música: Mário Pacheco

This theme speaks of what is the soul of Fado, the feeling of Being, the People, the Longing.


There is a music that belongs to the people

I can’t tell if it’s a fado –

That listening to it there is a new rhythm

In the being I have kept in me…


Listening to it I am what I would be

If to desire wat to be …

It’s a simple melody

Of those one learns just by living …


And I hear it comfortable and alone …

That’s the one I wanted …

I lost faith and the way …

Who I was not is who is happy.


But it’s so comforting.

The vague and sad song …

That my soul no longer weeps

Nor I have a heart …


If a foreign emotion,

An error of a lost dream …

I sing anyway

And it ends with a sense!








Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Ney Matogrosso


The second part of “O Encoberto”, called “The Warnings” is the most immediate interpretation, concerning  those who announce the arrival of the Portuguese messiah, O Bandarra (the only one with the gift of prophecy), Father António Vieira and Fernando Pessoa himself who refers to himself in an unnamed poem that begins “I write my book on the edge of sorrow.”Its theme is the Fifth Empire and the Desired One will make it true.



I write my book on the brink of my sorrow.

My heart does not have to have.

I have my eyes warm with tears.

Only you, Lord, can give me life.


Just to feel you and think of you

My empty days you fill and gild.

But when will you want to come back?

When is the King? When is the Hour?


When will you become the Christ?

For whom the false God died,

And awakening from the evil that I exist

The New Earth and the New Heavens?


When will you come, h Hidden One,

Dream of the Portuguese eras,

Becoming more than the uncertain breath

Of a great longing that God has made?


Oh, when will you, coming back,

Make my hope become love?

Of the mist and the longing…  when?

When, my Dream and my Lord?





Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Zeca Afonso

First published in 1972 on the album “I’ll Be Like the Mole” by Zeca Afonso


Composed of three stanzas of six verses each, the text is marked by the predominance of the fixed form, valuing the sonority of the rhymes, including the internal ones. The fundamental feature of composition is repetition, both in the form of the stanza, metric and rhythm, as well as in its syntactic structure and sound layer resources, such as assonances, alliterations. Repetition at all levels fulfils the function of provoking the state of drowsiness and, like the lullabies songs present the refrain that provokes sleepiness, because repetition both syntactic and semantic causes numbness of the senses and numbs the child.

More than the representation of a long, merry and noisy train journey between Queluz and Portimão beach, the poem deals allegorically with the process of falling asleep, for in fact, the animation of the travellers is descendent


On the down train

Everybody laughing

Some for watching others laughing

And the others laughing  for no reason


On the down train

From Queluz to Cruz-Quebrada


On the down train

They all came to the window

Some quiet for others

And the others without paying them any attention


On the down train

From Cruz-Quebrada to Palmela


On the down train

But what a great confusion

Some sleeping others sleepy

And the others neither one or the other


On the down train From Palmela to Portimao




Poem: Fernando Pessoa

Music: Dulce Pontes


The prime minister (in lower case) resigned; public and private debt is gigantic; the interest demanded by the loans we made is enormous; the crisis is there in all

its splendour.

           About CRISE, or crises, Pessoa wrote in the Message the poem «Fog»,

exactly the last poem of this work:

The poem points clearly to a climate of degradation of the country, of melancholy and sadness, emphasized by the use of words and expressions that reveal negativity, an environment of crisis on several levels: political, of identity, of uncertainty and undefinition. Yesterday, just like today: “Oh Portugal, today you are fog …”.



Neither king nor law, nor peace nor war,

Define with profile and being

This dull glow of the earth

That is Portugal getting sad

Brightness without light and without burning

Like what the marsh-fire contains


No one knows what it wants.

No one knows what soul it has,

Neither what is evil nor what is good.

(What distant eagerness does it cry?)


Everything is uncertain and final.

Everything is dispersed, nothing is whole.

O Portugal, today you are fog …


It is time.

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