Your land has
trains to the east+ and
a mirror in two languages*.
As a woman and a lawyer.
You do not believe in padlocks
laying on the bridges.
Their keys do not open nor
they close what anyone feels.
I met you between laughs.
Here and now.
Lucifer and my yesterday.
Tricked me to lose you.
I looked for you in Riga
halfway your churches and the moon.
In a painting by El Greco
and in Botticelli’s Venus^.
I ran in my despair
to Villa Borghese.
The marble was cold
and the Gaul was dying**.
I cried for you using
all my therapies.
On my knees,
I called for a holy crusade.
From Malta, came
knights and galleys.
From the Kingdom of Aragon
arquebuses and good wine.
Men who loved you
and understand me.
Your winters do not have
compassion for the cowards.
Penitent I write to you
to apologize.
And give you an excuse
to meet again.
+ Forced exile in gulags
* Wound of a reality in Latvian and Russian.
^ You are her in person.
** The Dying Gaul is actually in the Musei Capitolini not in Galleria Borghese that is in Villa Borghese
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Text & picture© Guillermo G. Schiava D’Albano – ristretto230@gmail.com
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Para leerlo en español ->https://ristretto230.com/2018/06/19/laila-riga-espanol-spanish/
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