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Poem by Abelardo Sanchez Leon
DAVID TIPTON
Poem by ABELARDO SANCHEZ LEON
Why did that have to be the only answer? It's true
the night before I'd yielded to the attack of enemy shadows,
I couldn't stand the siege, the temptations, the armed & fierce
assault,
the room filling up with my weakening grip
on the efficacy of prayer, & the false monks & bigots
betrayed the sincerity of my voice pleading with arms raised.
It was easy to succumb to their entreaties & compromises,
for I was without father or mother,
naked, begging for plaster armour.
Why did the only answer reflect my error in their eyes?
Having no woman doesn't justify my fault;
I know Manuel is disgusted by my frequent visits to the moonless
brothels
where among the smoke & the nervous eyes I caress the dry
belly of a whore,
weaken each moment, concentrating on my drink,
talk of the living & doubt their loyalty & strength.
What demon has imprisoned me, slowly isolating me?
Little by little I'm cracking up like a dry river-bed
unworthy of long walks beneath the shade & the trees.
Why, Manuel,
why haven't I been able to grasp the precise outlines of the city?
Bewildered I've confused the expressions of its inhabitants,
the windows have been closed
& I walk alone with a neutered dog that goes on dying,
slowly bottling up my healthy desires.
We used to wander through the streets, understanding the signs
in the houses & hotels, the voice of the tender or defeated
like a lake where we could rest
DAVID TIPTON
uncorrupted by prayers & the blood.
How get rid of this damn scarecrow halted half-way along the
road?
I know I've gone down with second-hand feelings piling up
in my body,
my back turned on pain & the moon,
but don't leave me like the previous night,
try out new answers so that I can tolerate myself
without being afraid of my body, without lowering the eyes.