Old fat Mexicans in a fat Mexican sea—
Rolling over the star light,
The candle light,
And the light from the grotto of
The virgin of
Guadalupe- as the strangest of
Suppositions burn their roses—
The busses happen to end up with
Their gray hounds—
And there are only so many words
For poetry in the mongoloid's
Alphabet that ends up either
Way looking beautiful
To a blind man half in love with
The sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem