“There is no English word for what she sings. Is saudade, she feels saudade, she misses—There is a longing.” I listened for a while, trying to catch any familiar phrase, but I couldn’t. I asked, “What for?” He looked straight on, his face illuminated by a red traffic light, and said, “Something that is lost and never come back, if it makes sense. You take it with you. In her present life she cannot forget the past. It is the presence of an absence. A great, great woman.”
