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.