Andrea Tavares de Sousa (Cape Verde)

Andrea Tavares de Sousa (Cape Verde)

Andrea Tavares de Sousa was born in Cape Verde, Santa Catarina (Santiago) in april 06 1987. She moved to France since 2005. She is a writer and a poet. Andrea wrote four books (Poet of the year 2019, Women and their destinations, Words of pandemic, the cyclone will end and poetic universe). She writes poem in many languages such as Portuguese, French, Spanish and Cape Verde an Creole. She is mentioned in several anthology books, and she is currently preparing a poetry book in Cape Verdean Creole, as well as a children’s book with traditional songs. She is also learning classical music and how to play guitare.

The art of Poetry

Walking in the mysterious mist
My wandering poet life
Is a light of a sad lost soul
Covered by unmeasured verses.

Diving into the rough sea
In the waves of writings
Painted with delicate secrets,
Bluish from the dawn of my being

I will sing about love, sweetly,
I will make the insensible hearts to feel it
My humble verses – The art of Poetry!
My song and my and sweet melody.

The calmness of my poems
In a dream full of petals
The joy of my heart
And the perfume of poet that I am.

My piece of heaven

In the book of my life
Is written our love
With calligraphy of hearts
And song for each night.

You are my piece of heaven,
The joy that flies with the moon,
The breeze of my eyes,
You are my madness!

My desire for you,
beats inside of me,
Desire with colorful verses,
With songs and poetries.

You are the melody of the waves
You are my blue sea,
The beach of my passion,
on a moonlight night
You are my air in the summer heat
You are the one and only love of my life!


Heart of wonder,
Lap of our islands,
Mother of joy,
Womb of magic.

Oh dear mother,
extend your arms
and receive this love petal,
painted with warmth

Blown with calmness,
friendship and hope.
Greeted by the rain.
And such a friend of the moon!

This affection is for you,
Gifted with medal of honor ,
as the best mother in the world.
You are “Morabeza” of Deep seas!

Oh woman with thigh of clay!
Your fragile look,
is the mirror of pain.
The guilty is the color of my skin!
Please, carry your cross,
Even if it’s in the desert of suffering
Let me sing to you my love,
You are the water of my thought.

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