“Trago” – a title that can mean I bring or a sip in Portuguese – plunges us into a hypnotic night where every sense is awake. Rita Vian paints the scene with delicious detail: a turquoise cloth, a raspberry-coloured dress, the metallic certainty of a knife that slices through sleep. Between silvery moonlight and the salt of the sea, two lovers orbit each other, pulled by a magnetic desire that feels both tender and electric. Memories of a single unforgettable evening echo through the city streets, so vivid that the narrator’s face is exposed just by dreaming the other is near.
The song unfolds like a cinematic chase. Vivid metaphors – blind butterflies, waves of prayer and tears, blood woken by sea salt – capture the whirlwind of longing when someone occupies every corner of your mind. Rita’s refrain “Saio à procura” (“I go out searching”) turns the city into a maze of chance encounters, secret hand-touches and unspoken rituals. “Trago” celebrates that delicious uncertainty of love: the courage to follow a wild impulse, the sweetness of imagining dessert before the meal, and the way a single night can be stitched into the fabric of a whole town – and of two beating hearts.