#1225 Grace Boulevard - by Vicente Reyes

#1225 Grace Boulevard the Morning After

The pearly haze of satin days fills your eyes again after the neon rain

That colored chilly city winds has been swept off the scene and my

Meandering shoes have found themselves wet and cold inside your door.

The morning smells of your feminine abode fill the room as I lie

Awake and warm beneath a quilt of patterned pieces from some farm,

Far from the traffic that squeaks and squawks outside your gates.

There is a diamond light on your gilded framed paintings and your eyes

Are sapphire emeralds that caress me and fill me with the glow you know

I inhale as a hungry man does the taste of hot bread in the baker’s alley.

I have wandered through the city for days seeking beauty in the shapes

Of buildings etched on paper by some cigar chomping architect and then

Raised tier by tier by the hands of workmen whose blood did imprint

The face of the nation with the lament and hope of days like these.

I am a golden bowl with no water and I walked for thirty miles until I saw

The silver fountain in the city square and then I did dip my cap and lie

On the grass for an hour before I could journey on in peace towards you.

Now here in your embrace and in the atmosphere of your lovely place,

I feel like a plucky peasant in the royal hall just before the revolution,

Just before the dissipation of the crown and the reformation of the nation.

It is the decadence of luxury that bred such loveliness as covers us today.

Yet your kind heart has loved me so and your candied kisses do enthrall

And revive my haggard spirits as you remind me my soul is priceless still.

Oh so then your silky hand in my calloused touch inspires such love,

I want to let you go but I want so to keep you for a moment more.

I have touched the center of your being with my rough thrust and now

Do kiss me once again before I head for the dusty streets beyond your door.

I will return to you for you are mine forever now, and there shall never

Be another who can steal your feminine soul as I do in the hollow darkness.

You moan and open wide a sigh as you feel as though you walk the sky,

For I am warmer than the rain that beats against your window pane,

And your tipsy toes, more tender than the wings of a rose do so please

My lips as these are like clouds to steady your upside down fairy steps.

Oh nothing I did before and nothing more that I may do can replace

In my mind the sweetness of your sighs and the smile on your face.

September 24, 2000

Internet source: http://www.thepoetsdiary.com/

First North American Serial Rights Available

May be reprinted freely for personal review or academic discussion

Original English & Spanish translation by Vicente Reyes, all others by SYSTRAN

If you can help correct any errors in the translations please e-mail today.