When I started out I was all alone and I could go for so
Many ways,
Crossed by the angels and silver bodies of their skies:
Crucified by stewardesses who didn’t even know why; and if this
Is a dream,
Then isn’t it real, because I haven’t had so much time for dreaming,
Because I was buying a house and hitting on Alma:
I know where she buys her jewelry: At the Sunshine Flea Market:
I am going to go there on my next day off and buy her jewelry,
And an image of the Virgin of Guadalupe that I will keep
In my new house, which is old enough to be a grandmother,
And I will pray to her for Alma, in the utmost moonlight, and in the
Opulent rain,
While the students divide, matriculating in and out of their classes,
I will give something to Alma that none of them can ever have,
Because of the way you looked at me today, Alma:
And when you made me flinch when you pretended you were going
To punch me:
I am just a lonely gringo, anyways, and yes, I was sad when you asked
Me if I was,
Because your beauty is the only answer to the breathless permanence,
And I can stare at you for a long while,
Alma: I can stare at you almost as long as that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is something about this beautiful poem which reminds me of the great South American writing. There's a touch of Garcia Marquez in the imagery...