The Neglected Garden

(Columna Música, 2018)

The Neglected Garden

(Columna Música, 2018)

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Lletres

TINTINNABULATION OF THE MOURNERS

Night: and once again
The grapple with death.
Demons dancing in the room
Celebrating Sisyphus doom.

Mourners outside my window
As I lay on the bed,
Shake their small bells and rattles.
It’s the Day of the Dead.

An eternal sorrow that never sleeps,
A path that runs right through hell,
I’ve seen it lately in my dreams,
Those dreams that make me dwell.

Light blue moonless summer evening.
Venus burning hard.
I see Swedenborg’s angels
Digging a grave in my backyard.

Time is not but a fake healer,
A pariah dog begins to yelp
And several mezcalitos later
I realize you may need my help.

Lift up your eyes to the hill,
I seem to hear a voice,
That comes with disenchantment or thrill
From the place where we used to rejoice.

THE DOSE MAKES THE POISON

No time, no drop to waste.
She’s sleeping in my bed.
In a rush I reach the street.
A fanfare in my head.

The sun is shining bright
Upon volcano’s trees.
A mountain or a whale.
The light is no relief.

A phone is ringing, I pick up,
I say “hello” and then “goodbye”.

Nicaragua Street.
Remote and weak remorse.
I have a need for a drink,
A need that can’t be worse.

There’s a fresh cantina.
Five minutes away.

The road now in my mouth:
“Stranger, who are you?”
“I forgive you anyhow,
Could you forgive me, too?”

“Oh, excuse me sir,
I thought you were someone else”.

On bended knees I stay calm,
Smooth out my suit with my dirty palms.
There’s no broken bone, no missing watch,
It’s not Irish Whisky, it’s not Scotch,
It’s a sentence that condemns me to destroy us.

You say you’re back to stay,
A ghost that became true.
You’re expecting something old
dreaming of something new.

Well, I have no plan for me.
Of course, I have no plan for you.

I grant just one more day
In the rigged fortune wheel,
A twelve hours’ delay:
The only perfect deal.

Now I’m sober; so, love,
You better hurry up.

Your body is like a lighthouse
But I don’t dare to sail.
My fingers unfasten your blouse
My aim, once more, fails.

No tragedy:
My needs are somewhere else.

Your breast, your legs,
In a drunken haze,
The jewel door,
My long lost trace,
I will never cross
Your golden gate
I’m far from here,
In my lonely hell,
For that sentence that condemns me
To destroy me, to destroy you,
To destroy us.
In a forest road,
When I found my sleep,
My wounds will finally heal.

And each star in the sky
Will show Paracelsus was right:
It’s always been the dose
That makes the poison.

CANADIAN RANCH

Imagine you and me
fixing the roof
of our small Canadian ranch.
Guinea fowls around,
Fields of corn and a red barn.

You could shear the sheep
Into your dungarees
I’d wear a straw hat.
The sun would set behind the hill,
A big bed, a patchwork quilt.

Lemonade. Mint leaves.
Robins on the fir.
Flames in the hearth.
A kiss on the hay loft.
My love,
All right, maybe it’s ridiculous

But at least
it’s better than sitting here,
Doing nothing,
At least, it’s a dream,
A possibility, a way out,
A hideout.

Come into my arms,
Lover, come to me,
Let’s cry together for the past.
All those days that dully we wasted
All those flavours we never tasted.

Under the bougainvillea tree,
I can’t stand your glance.
I don’t love you when you’re drunk.
You are a stranger, you’re a stranger to me,
It seems you are far from anywhere,
In your selfish glee.

And I remember
The glimmer of May,
When we went out of the way,
Over there:
Behind the rose path,
where the children play,
It was my favourite day,
Over there:
Across the river,
Beyond the pine grove
a million years ago,
over there.

POOR FISH RIVER

I’d like to be at Poor Fish River,
I want to swim in the Onion Lake,
You can keep your precious Guadalquivir,
Como you can also take.

I want a fish in the hook,
I want a fish in the hook,
I want to be in a town named Product or Dumble,
or anywhere in Canada.

I want to be in Ripe,
I want to die in a town
Whose name sounds
like an inscription on a grave.

TWENTY-NINE CLOUDS

I listen to the murmur,
Of a relentless wave
That’s coming closer.

I’m a river at its delta
just about to turn into the sea.

A civil war, a foolish fib,
A rule sketched on a crib,
The book I have to write.

The peak I surmounted
Was in a little mountain,
I’m a fraud.

Twenty-nine clouds on a sunny sky,
Twenty-nine reasons to make me cry,
On a Wednesday.

Twenty-nine clouds on a perfect day,
Twenty-nine reasons to fly far away
From here.

A civil war, a foolish fib,
A rule sketched on a crib,
The book I have to write.

The peak I surmounted
Was in a little mountain,
I’m a fraud.

Twenty-nine clouds on a sunny sky,
Twenty-nine reasons to make me cry,
On a Wednesday.

Twenty-nine clouds on a perfect day,
Twenty-nine reasons to fly far away,
From here.

A civil war, a foolish fib,
A rule sketched on a crib,
The book I have to write.

The peak I surmounted
Was in a little mountain,
I’m a fraud.

TWENTY-NINE CLOUDS

I listen to the murmur,
Of a relentless wave
That’s coming closer.

I’m a river at its delta
just about to turn into the sea.

A civil war, a foolish fib,
A rule sketched on a crib,
The book I have to write.

The peak I surmounted
Was in a little mountain,
I’m a fraud.

Twenty-nine clouds on a sunny sky,
Twenty-nine reasons to make me cry,
On a Wednesday.

Twenty-nine clouds on a perfect day,
Twenty-nine reasons to fly far away
From here.

A civil war, a foolish fib,
A rule sketched on a crib,
The book I have to write.

The peak I surmounted
Was in a little mountain,
I’m a fraud.

Twenty-nine clouds on a sunny sky,
Twenty-nine reasons to make me cry,
On a Wednesday.

Twenty-nine clouds on a perfect day,
Twenty-nine reasons to fly far away,
From here.

A civil war, a foolish fib,
A rule sketched on a crib,
The book I have to write.

The peak I surmounted
Was in a little mountain,
I’m a fraud.

ONE CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT LOVE

Darling, remember when I used to pick you up.
I threw pebbles at your window pane.
You were so young you didn’t wear a bra.
Then you smiled so sweet when you saw me,
Rolling your purse chain ‘round your fingers,
Downstairs: meet me in the backyard,
Across the orange grove, beside the shack,
It seems so long ago.

Laid back days all gone away,
They belong to and are yesterday.
A grey sky, a lost bet,
A kiss that turns into regret.

Wasted time: the worst of crimes.
Wasted time: the worst of crimes.
I took you home and went to the bar,
I took a walk in the night bazaar,

To write you all those letters in my head
Full with poetry and care
That I never got to send.

Darling, your handbag mirror told you you had been crying.
Five minutes ago, at the bullfight,
And I’ve seen your tears in your wrinkles,
You trying to fake you were smiling,
So I’ve put my head on your breast,
‘Cause you intuit the laws of alchemy,
And you’ve known the meaning of tragedy,
The meaning of death.

Let’s start again, really start again,
Tomorrow we could leave by train.
A few green fields have not been ploughed
Let’s not talk ‘bout these big black clouds.

Wasted time, the worst of crimes,
Wasted time, the worst of crimes,
I took you home and went to the bar,
I took a walk in the night bazaar,

All the conceited lovers that you had
And once made me mad,
Today just make me glad.

Let’s start again, really start again,
Tomorrow we could leave by train.
A few green fields have not been ploughed
Let’s not talk ‘bout these big black clouds.

One cannot live without love,
One cannot live without love,
One cannot live without love,
One cannot live without love, love, love:

No matter how many times I’ve tried
the last fight.
I renounce, I renounce.

STRYCHNINE

Cat Cat Cat Cat Cat-Astrophe,
Have you found my flask?
I half remember I buried it
In someone’s backyard.
I’d kill for a little tequila,
But I’d die for mescal.
I want to see that movie,
“The hands of Orlac”.

A corpse will be transported
by Express!
Why do they do it, Fernando?
It got me in distress.
Drinking awake in black-tie
At Bella Vista Hotel,
Almost sober at ten in the morning,

Precious, precious, precious,
What are you doing here?
It’s a surprise party,
You’re still wearing the ring.

Let’s go home together,
to Nicaragua Street.
I’ll show you my new bottle,
A bottle of strychnine.

Cat Cat Cat Cat Cat-Astrophe,
Hold me the door.
As I seek for another mystery
On the bathroom floor.
Spiders moving slowly,
I give each a name.
Crickets and caterpillars
Are perfectly tame.

Chufferty Pupperty train
Waltzing over the plain.
“To drink or not to drink”,
That’s what Shakespeare meant.
I dreamed Jack London took me
To a Palembang brothel.
Of course it was long before
We got married.

Precious, precious, precious,
What are you doing here?
It’s a surprise party,
You’re still wearing the ring.

Let’s go home together,
to Nicaragua Street.
I’ll show my new bottle,
A bottle of strychnine.

Precious, precious, precious,
What are you doing here?
It’s a surprise party,
You’re still wearing the ring.

Let’s go home together,
to Nicaragua Street.
I’ll show my new bottle,
A bottle of strychnine.

FOREST ROAD EPIPHANY

Twilight falls,
a fraying veil.
You’re too far to listen
To my heartfelt wail,
my heartfelt wail.

I ate a scorpion,
An acquired taste.
A little mescal,
no poison to waste.
No, no, no,
I won’t think of us
Anymore unless
I come back
to your heart
again.

And then I’ll burn
like a fir
hit by a bolt
of lightning.

Yellow moonbeam.
Eyes in the woods.
Tapir footsteps.
The restless newt
Comes and goes,
He seems afraid of me.

As I stumble to my feet
in this forest road,
observed from a puddle
by a nosy toad,
I say to myself
Leaning on the chestnut tree
I won’t think of us
Anymore unless
I come back
to your heart
again.

And then I’ll burn
like a fir
hit by a bolt
of lightning.

When I look at my compass,
It points to a bunch of lights:
Cantina El Farolito,
At last, at last.

There, there I’ll burn
Like a fir
Hit by a bolt
of lightning,
so I’ll burn,
I will burn,
I will burn.

Ah ah ah ah ah…..

THIS GARDEN IS YOURS

Once, at the west of Eden,
All those edible fruits,
No odd and no even,
In our birthday suit,

We didn’t know we were naked,
We had never had clothes.

Once, when no one was hidden
in the Land of Nod.
Nothing to be forbidden
Or forgiven by God.

We didn’t know what guilt was,
We just did not know.

Do you like this garden?
Do you like this garden?
This garden is yours,
This garden is yours.

Do you like this garden?
Do you like this garden?
This garden is yours,
Don’t ruin it with wars.

The snakes broke through its doors,
But this garden is still yours.

Many mysteries are yet
To be revealed,
Since Abel and Seth
Got into the wheel.

Our grandparents were free
beside the apple tree.

Do you like this garden?
Do you like this garden?
This garden is yours,
This garden is yours.

Do you like this garden?
Do you like this garden?
The underbrush grows,
This garden is yours.

The filthy corpse of Cain
Is withering in the rain.

Don’t dwell on your failures,
Scratch the rust on your rake,
Every day is a treasure:
Celebrate every ache.

Once Job saw the brush
his ox had to rush.

Do you like this garden?
Do you like this garden?
This garden of yours,
This garden is yours.

Do you like this garden?
Do you like this garden?
Somewhere along the way
A sheep went astray.

Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah.

It’s all yours,
This garden is all yours.

HORSE # 7

Orion and the Pleiades,
Diamond birds flying,
Like clouds in the sky,
In front of my eyes.

Beautiful butterflies
Zigzagging overhead
A whirlpool of rage and love
Landing on a grassy bed.

I was blinded by the lightning,
the perfect thunderbolt,
And the windows in my mind
Slowly began to unfold.

I was laying on the floor,
With the raindrops and the tears
And I smiled at horse number seven,
Running towards me.

All at once the rain
Fell more heavily.
The wind sounded like a train,
A thunder shook the earth.

Popocateptl
Roaring its old menace,
Made a perfect landscape,
For my fading mirage

Cars whirling in a fair,
In the middle of the forest,
Cassiopeia and the Dragon
Venus, Saturn at their orbits,

It was supposed I’d be confused
Sinking in the mud
But I clearly heard the bells,
And saw the carrousels.

And with my final breath, my final scream
I had the strangest dream:
The horse number seven
Came to take away my fears.

And I saw you and me,
Back in Canada,
And all at once, in turn,
The trees began to burn.
Soon we were in flames,
But strangely
We felt no pain,
We were lifted away,
You and me,
Through the ceiling
Flying over the oak,
Turned into smoke,
You and me.

PARIAH DOG

Decoy bird lost. Big reward.
I’m anguished about my hunting tools:
My cartridge belt, my waterproof boots…
Where the hell is my camouflage suit?

The kitchen clock has lost its hands,
But I still change its batteries once a year,
The pariah dog that sleeps in my carpet
Will follow me to the ravine.

And I just want to go with him,
I want to lock my coffin from within,
my things inside, intact my pride,
my favourite shirt.

The bullet holes,
A full hip flask,
For the road, it seems to me a light load,
A light load…

The roar, there, in the distance,
The growl under the volcano,
When I see the sunlight in your hair,
Like an angel’s sparkling flare,
That makes me think it’s not so sad
to say goodbye.

It’s a lone hideout,
Weed and garbage for the final act,
Stuff stacked,
We all made it, in the end.

Booze to dust,
Old wood makes higher flames
Poor universe, it will get cold,
As I roll, I roll.

The flash of a moving picture,
The crash of a broken bottle.
Mozart, is it?
Forgive me, my sweetheart.
A clamour comes from above,
A waterfall that sounds
like our cries of love.

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