The Portuguese call it saudade: a longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable. Love affairs, miseries of life, the way things were, people already dead, those who left and the ocean that tossed them on the shores of a different land– all things born of the soul that can only be felt.

~ Anthony De Sa

|Parque das Nações, Lisbon, Portugal|

Leave a Comment

Discover more from The Walk Note

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading