Tears Of The Moon
"La mar
no tiene naranjas, ni Sevilla tiene amor..."
(The sea has no oranges, nor Seville any love...)
from Adelina
de Paseo, by Federico Garcia Lorca
I.
The sea is made
from the tears of the moon.
They fall like meteorites
to build the splash of azure rivers.
They fall like rocks
the air has set on fire in
a coliseum of dust, an iron mist
burning with the blue taste of salt.
The sea is cold, incalculable
as the heart of my beloved,
changeful, infinite, self-satisfied
and blind. This is why
the moon cries. She knows she lays
her silver face for nothing
across the drenched toss of the
erasing waves. The sea
is too busy,
tonight, and every
night.
II.
The sea has far to travel
to kiss the dun lips of Spain, to fondle
Gibraltar like a primitive doll,
to curl the sand under
on the Costa
del Sol,
guitaring sweet lovesongs
to women with eyes like summer figs
who walk with the chiming of rice in the wind
whose hips round as oranges
call night after
night
for the men who don't come; nuns
of blue rivers, learning to understand
the tears of the moon
that drip from the lids of
an extinguished rock, while on the
ruined plains of a waterless
country
an old woman reads Lorca at midnight,
with the tears of the moon on her cheeks.
~January 2020
originally posted for earthweal
reposted for Desperate Crossings at
Images: Orange Trees on the Road to Seville, 1903 © Joaquin Sorolla Public Domain
The Font, 1930 © Salvador Dali Public Domain
As only Joy can conceive it ~~~ 'an old woman reads Lorca at midnight,
ReplyDeletewith the tears of the moon on her cheeks.'
I love the whole idea of the sea being made by tears of the moon. Surely, there is an ocean of tears on this planet by now. I love the "women with eyes like summer figs." And LOVE those closing lines, another old woman like me with tears on her cheeks at what madness goes on by the light of the moon. Beautiful, Hedge.
ReplyDeleteIt's a brilliant conceit, the jilted moon crying for her infinitely self-satisfied lover the sea. Brutal as Poseidon, lord, master and rapist. The pile of images revels throughout, but the first two lines and "She knows she lay / her silver face for nothing / across the drenched toss of the / erasing waves" left me weeping tidally. Sea's gotta take, moon's gotta grieve. A vintage wild crossing for the Desperates, Hedge.
ReplyDelete"the blue taste of salt"
ReplyDelete"to kiss the dun lips of Spain, to fondle
Gibraltar like a primitive doll,"
"women with eyes like summer figs"
Lots of gems here, Joy.
Now you've got me wanting to go back to Spain!
This whole poem is beyond beautiful and deeply moving.
ReplyDeletehad to look up Ran's Road. found a metal video from Skeptic. is that the one? of course the poem is rich with the imagery that only you conjure, making me look up from the screen to imagine women with eyes like figs, and tears of the moon. marvelous ~
ReplyDeleteThanks, M. I like this one and glad you enjoyed also. Ran was a sea goddess, and her road in Norse mythology means the reflection of the moon's light in a "road" on the face of the sea. But metal is cool, too.Hope all is well with you, brother. I will be by to read tomorrow.
Deleteaha (M here) - makes sense that the metal band would cover a Norse myth.
Delete