MUSIC
POETRY
2010
PRESS
NARRATION
ABOUT US
COMEDY
Carnival in Rio!
Row after row of color, costumes, glitter galore—
Wave after wave of thundering feet and droning, deafening voices—
Billow on billow of prancing, advancing masses of dancers—
We shake our shoulders, bottoms, and bellies to the beat . . .
Of the bongos!—the bongos!—the bongos!
Hours and hours of dancing, singing, laughing, and fun—
Day after day of cheer in the fiery heat of roasting Rio—
Night after night of feverish lust and great, fantastic vices—
We twist and turn and stamp, and thus we succumb . . .
To the rhythm!—the rhythm!—the rhythm!
Beat after beat of raging blood and rising desire—
Song after song of attraction and lure of the sexes—
Dance after dance of reveling, heaving oceans of bodies—
We gasp and groan like all our ancestors did . . .
In the Congo!—the Congo!—the Congo!
Stream after stream of dark, irresistible rhythms—
Wave after wave of hot, tremendous, African forces—
Billow on billow of burning, baking, boiling catharsis—
We join our fathers and mothers, and shake and mate to the beat . . .
Deep in the womb of the rhythm!—the rhythm!!—the rhythm!!!
© 1988 Freddy Niagara Fonseca
We’re dancing the samba, the samba, the samba in
Rio—Rio de Janeiro, Brazil!
We know no worries whenever we dance in the streets of
Rio—Rio de Janeiro, Brazil!
We’re dancing the samba, the samba, the samba in
Rio—Rio de Janeiro, Brazil!
We’re back in the Congo!—the Congo!—the Congo!—and
Not in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil!
Design and copyright 2009 Freddy Niagara Fonseca
Fairfield Creates
