The Dance Poem by Niko Tiliopoulos

The dolphin looked like gold
as she was dancing
in the sea-choreography of her hair,
lit by a lamp,
with its flame ending
along with the whale’s oil.

And in her dance she whistled
the out-of-tune brass of New Orleans.
And her dance became ecstasy
in the spells of the Incas,
building the pyramids
of the cerulean gods of Venus.

And the lethargy of her dance cocooned her
with the silver of the bubbles of her breath.

Silence!

Horny, minor gods of the fields,
followers of Bacco.
Your pubic chants
are tantalising her sleep.

Silence!

Drunken tourist of the beach,
naked sand-stirrers.

Silence!

The dolphin is sleeping her freedom
in the waves of the corals.

She is sleeping and dreaming of the fire.

She is sleeping and falling in love with the humans.