In 1973, Amilcar Cabral was assassinated in Conakry, leader/liberaionist of the PAIGC and one of the great figures in African history.

It was already night in Conakry when, arriving home accompanied by his wife Ana Maria, Amílcar Cabral is surprised by a group of armed men and mortally shot in the liver and head. The controversy over the authorship of the crime continues to this day. The truth is that there would be many who would be interested in the liquidation of Cabral. From the outhealy the fascist portuguese regime, but also internal rivals in the PAIGC and even Sekou Touré, president of neighboring Guinea Conakry.

Around 1978, Jorge Peixinho investigates the death of t he liberationist in 'Elegy to Amílcar Cabral,' a piece composed of only twelve sinewave tones, which veer a narrow and sometimes painful course until finally reaching an abrupt end, just like the life of the revolutionary and poet.


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"My desire is to invite to breathe, to relax, to pamper the listener through the various stages of listening while at the same time keeping in mind how alienating and menacing existence may be, when the capitalist society around us is encroaching more and more on the human space. My challenge for this work was to marry string instruments with electronics. I used my electric Psalterion as a backup, played with a bow or sometimes plucked, as well as a work on the tuning (dissonant variations or thicker strings).
The electronics are played on the EMS Synthi A analog system."
:Philippe Petit - Elegiacall_ity (17:06

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JL marie is inspired by the work of Jorge Peixinho, and at the same time reveals the depth of Amicar poetry. There are only 12 notes, actually one, 12 harmonics on the A, some above the 30 harmonic.
The work was made with several modular synthesizers and a Korg PS-3200.
12 harmonics evoke the poem:

"Sem rumo e sem ter fito,
Sozinhas,
dispersas,
emersas,
nós vamos,"

Please read the full poem:

"Naus sem rumo
Dispersas,
emersas,
sozinhas sôbre o Oceano …
Sequiosas,
rochosas,
pedaços do Africano,
do negro continente,
as engeitadas filhas,
nossas ilhas,
navegam tristemente …

Qual naus da antiguidade,
qual naus
do velho Portugal,
aquelas que as entradas
do imenso mar abriram …
As naus
que as nossas descobriram.

Ao vento, à tempestade,
navegam
de Cabo Verde as ilhas,
as filhas
do ingente
e negro continente …

São dez as caravelas
em busca do Infinito …
São dez as caravelas,
sem velas,
em busca do Infinito …
A tempestade e ao vento,
caminham …
navegam mansamente
as ilhas,
as filhas
do negro continente …

– Onde ides naus da Fome,
da Morna,
do Sonho,
e da Desgraça? …

– Onde ides? …

Sem rumo e sem ter fito,
Sozinhas,
dispersas,
emersas,
nós vamos,
sonhando,
sofrendo,
em busca do Infinito! …
"Quem é que não se lembra
Daquele grito que parecia trovão?!
– É que ontem
Soltei meu grito de revolta.
Meu grito de revolta ecoou pelos vales mais longínquos da Terra,
Atravessou os mares e os oceanos,
Transpôs os Himalaias de todo o Mundo,
Não respeitou fronteiras
E fez vibrar meu peito…"




“Cabral matadu, ma i ka muri” (“Cabral was killed, but he didn’t die.”)