or The Test of Love
Cerberus takes me on a stroll
downhill the neighboring canyon.
We amble to the end
towards an elevated earthy abutment
behind which in the sinister of midnight
an inestimable odd integer of eyes scintillates.
Thank heavens a vastly large triangular grille
sloping at a 60-degree angle towards me
separates us.
It is bolted down by six massive bolts
along each of its three equilateral sides.
Subconsciously, a nagging reminiscence
of Cabalistic rituals dealing with the
combination and meaning of the numeral 3
and 6 and mysterious triangles and Sephiroth
keep flashing across my mind.
In spite of the massive vertical rod iron bars
strong enough to restrain Jonah's whale
I agonize. The ravine and the tunnel
behind the gridiron holds but a trickle of the
deluge of eons ago.
Either that or the gods the framework contains
thirst more than the skies are munificent.
The spirits must've been also ravenous
as the gigantic sun-bleached moluscan shells
and other arthropods speckle the grounds.
I suspect the divinities are of Gaul provenance
and in that moment I feel gratified I am not a frog
but a bowless would-be Prince Charming
in search of the elusive virginal Princess and
she of the kissing frog so she can test
if she's or not with child.
A sort of modern anuran annunciation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem