She was a perfect composition sitting there
broad brown face with smile as white as lilies,
red rebozo, red pail of flowers,
skirts spread around her like an audience.
Broad brown face with smile white as lilies
bunches of Alcatraz, tied with a string
skirts spread around her like an audience
a woman one with her wares.
Bunches of Alcatraz, tied with a string
Mexican lilies, Mexican vendor
a woman one with her wares.
I painted her, and never knew her name.
Mexican lilies, Mexican vendor,
I bought some, paid to take her photo.
I painted her, and never knew her name.
She never knew how much she moved me/
I bought some, paid to take her photo
lest I forget the vision sitting there.
She never knew how much she moved me.
She couldn't know how beautiful she was.
Lest I forget the vision sitting there
I painted her-two times in fact.
She couldn't know how beautiful she was,
how purely Mexican I found her.
I painted her-two times in fact.
Years later, yesterday I saw her.
How purely Mexican I found her
this time sitting hand out-stretched.
Years later, yesterday I saw her
no red rebozo, no red pail of flowers
this time sitting hand out-stretched.
She was a perfect composition sitting there.
One needs a passion for words for such (et pictura poesis) , and the craft to control them in such obessive forms as the pantoumn, above.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Rhythm, repetition so deftly handled gives wings to the apparently plainest of phrasings.. 'I painted her-two times in fact', is lent a revealing beauty by this deceptively demanding form. Dr BIll's review brought me here... so much talent lurks relatively unseen in Poemhunter's vast hill of poems. Glad I've found yours. Will be back for more. I'm no poet, so have nothing to look at.... here only for the pleasure of reading quality work. Thank you.