The sun beams down on red-tiled rooves

And bleached Belem stands like a galleon

Yellow trams clang along the front

Where custard tarts are served in mint-white chambers

A tricolour cockerel stood in a tiny lane

On our way up to the battlements in the trees

To look out over gleaming squares

And distant blue Tagus with its Golden Gate bridge

Inside, colours rejoice in the dark

Backlit gilded goddesses and marble candle stands

And stained-glass kaleidoscopes arch towards the sky

But later we venerate blackened fish and verde wine.