Listening To Agujetas
Sing, old man, those true songs of fire,
Songs that were too old for this air
Before you yourself were ever born.
Hammer those words against the night
As, once, you struck at the forge,
Feeling the sting of sparks
Cry out in triumph from its fierce iron.
Let the feet of the dancers play them too,
Your anguished words, your dark-throated songs:
Hammers against the fire within,
Fire against night, night against despair.
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Comments about this poem (Listening To Agujetas by Richard Lord )
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