The wide and unexpected space
The sixteenth song he had to sing
Not one word spoken until then
He'd only introduce the band
And leave the rest interpreting.
.
A crazy kid, darting in waves
Was close up front, the first ten rows
Were all stood up, beer-bellies left
For cups and piss, post-boomers watched
The long-haired raven ladies
With their warehouse eyes transfixed.
I stood beside the mixing-desk
Two guys in headphones and soft chairs
I gripped on the protecting rail
Within the void of smoke and howls
The figures in the distance, small
Were issuing E-minor chords.
One wish, one single prayer, intent
Belied by the prediction that
This man's last number never will
Complete the promise that he sees:
'I'll be released', and all our hopes
Were shuffling out to mist and breeze
Leaving just a hardened core
Waiting still, upon their knees
As if would fall a last insight
From tangled vines of ceiling light
But to the other ones outside
The keys were visible and clear
In each new-born mixed-race embrace
Their kisses lingering like chimes
Of freedom in the midnight air.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem