"Take away my eyes; take away forever the light of Lisbon;

Take away the slopes of the Douro, Tagus and Alentejo;

Take away the paved sidewalks and azulejo wall tiles;

Take away my ears; take away forever the weeping guitar and wailing fado singer; take away the street cries of the women at Bulhão Market; and the accents from north to south;

Take away the fury of foaming waves and the cry of goal;

Take away my hands; take way forever the winter sun light against my cheek; take away  the clay forming between my fingers; take away my mothers sun burned face, my fathers rugged hand;

Take away all this, but don't take away my tongue, because if I'm still able to savour that garlic sausage dripping with flavour, or salted cod soaked in olive oil, I'll be able to say, if my voice hasn’t been taken away, that I'm in Portugal.

Gallo olive oil. Singing since 1919."