Old man drives in Alentejo

It was a warm day, with hints of fall, when he travelled through Alentejo
He stopped many places and took pictures of the undulating landscape,
Grazing cows and sheep resting under a cork tree, and no ****** drones
will come, blow up farms and **** the cattle.
He stopped at a small village inn, it was empty, and the owner told me
He had to close; the people had no work and lived on bread and potatoes.
Ah, this clear sky a painter's paradise, had a hidden sun-drenched
poverty will they ever wake up and start another revolution or are freedom
curtailed by EU, doomed to a life without laughter.
The farms I saw were farms producing cash crops that looked colourful
but didn't need workers, and it was not meant to be like this.
There was great hope after the revolution in 1974 when the landed elite
lost their land, but somehow they got it back, using their influence
and money. The old man ate lunch and drank red wine and thought
of poverty and sun go hand in hand in this blessed land.