Japan 1958

Japan 1958

In Nagasaki once, between two factories, and behind
a tall ugly fence and a half open gate, I saw an ancient
Portuguese cemetery. Most of the headstones had
fallen over, perhaps the shock when the A. bomb fell.

Names of navigators and traders who came here, not to
wage war, but to sell and buy, get wealthy, buy a large
house in Lisbon and a big ranch in Alentejo, wear silk
everyday and have harpsichord playing daughters.

Some didn’t make it though, and that’s the way it is,
life isn’t fair. What surprised me, the most, was that
no one had cleared the stones and built a housing
estate, or a big factory, producing car batteries...