The night in Cascais looks enchanting, coloured light
Farris wheel and decorated streets… across the bay.
I see the village of Estoril, where ex-kings used to live;
there is a big Casino and I went there once, I know
what hell looks like, blinking light and hypnotized eyes.
A man once won a large sum of money, casinos must
see to it that someone wins to keep the hope alive
for other punters, who will gamble more in the hope
to win riches and be happy. Greed is a fervent wish to
find security and gladness, but one cannot have too
much money, the hunt for vague contentment goes on.
What happened to the winner? Did he buy a house
and a Ferrari? Or did he think that if he won once more
he would be really happy? I can see, from my terrace
that behind the bright light there is a gloomy darkness of
utter despair. I wonder if the lucky winner lives there.