An ode to the World Cup, for the BBC World Service: “Rio”.

With the World Cup drawing to a close, the BBC World Service asked me to write a poem about the time that I had spent in Rio during the tournament. You can hear it at 24:32 of the following link:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0224gvd

The text is below:

“Rio: an ode to the World Cup”

It makes sense that the heart of this World Cup,
Of this country, is Rio,
Because this city might just be
The most beautiful team the world has seen:
Each of its areas, beaches and bays
Sounds like it bears the name
Of an elegant Brazilian footballer;
Reading a map of Rio
Sounds like a list of squad members
Selected by God:
Gloria, Urca, Lapa, Leblon,
Santa Teresa, Laranjeiras,
Ipanema, Copacabana,
Flamengo, Maracana;
Long before football arrived in Brazil,
This country knew it was coming;
It made sure the sand was soft long in advance,
So that feet could dribble across it all day:
Brazil made sure that its cliffs, fields and forests
Were more spectacular than any goal that might ever be scored,
So that even if Neymar or Messi summoned up glorious deeds
Their surroundings would inspire them
To even greater feats.
Or perhaps Rio is a dressing-room
Through which, each day, parade millions;
Through the stench of steak and sweat and salt
As workmen’s tools clatter like studs against tiles
And buses disappear off into the night,
Like dreams;
And high above the door
Is Christ the Redeemer,
Standing on his mountain mantelpiece,
With the best view of each of us –
Of the beach, and, of course, of the football;
And he waves us all welcome, bem-vindos,
Welcome.

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