Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen (книги серии онлайн .TXT) 📗
stiff-armed down at his side,
effeminate:—he sees the cop—
they rush together—they’re embracing
like long lost brothers—
fatnose forgotten.
Delicate chords
from the negro guitarino
—singers at El Rancho Grande,
drunken burlesque
screams of agony,
VIVA JALISCO!
I eat a catfish sandwich
with onions and red sauce
20?.
II
A truly romantic spot,
more guitars, Columbus Square
across from Columbus Cathedral
—I’m in the Paris Restaurant
adjacent, best in town,
Cuba Libres 30?—
weatherbeaten tropical antiquity,
as if rock decayed,
unlike the pure
Chinese drummers of black stone
whose polished harmony can still be heard
(Procession of Musicians) at the Freer,
this with its blunt cornucopias and horns
of conquest made of stone—
a great dumb rotting church.
Night, lights from windows,
high stone balconies
on the antique square,
green rooms
paled by fluorescent houselighting,
a modern convenience.
I feel rotten.
I would sit down with my servants and be dumb.
I spent too much money.
White electricity
in the gaslamp fixtures of the alley.
Bullet holes and nails in the stone wall.
The worried headwaiter
standing amid the potted palms in cans
in the fifteen-foot wooden door looking at me.
Mariachi harmonica artists inside
getting around to Banjo on My Knee yet.
They dress in wornout sharpie clothes.
Ancient streetlights down the narrow Calle I face,
the arch, the square,
palms, drunkenness, solitude;
voices across the street,
baby wail, girl’s squeak,
waiters nudging each other,
grumble and cackle of young boys’ laughter
in streetcorner waits,
perro barking off-stage,
baby strangling again,
banjo and harmonica,
auto rattle and a cool breeze—
Sudden paranoid notion the waiters are watching me:
Well they might,
four gathered in the doorway
and I alone at a table
on the patio in the dark
observing the square, drunk.
25? for them
and I asked for “Jalisco”—
at the end of the song
oxcart rolls by
obtruding its wheels
o’er the music o’ the night.
Christmas 1953
Green Valentine Blues
Green Valentine Blues
I went in the forest to look for a sign
Fortune to tell and thought to refine;
My green valentine, my green valentine,
What do I know of my green valentine?
I found a strange wild leaf on a vine
Shaped like a heart and as green as was mine,
My green valentine, my green valentine,
How did I use my green valentine?
Bodies I’ve known and visions I’ve seen,
Leaves that I gathered as I gather this green
Valentine, valentine, valentine, valentine;
Thus did I use my green valentine.
Madhouse and jailhouses where I shined
Empty apartment beds where I pined,
O desolate rooms! My green valentine,
Where is the heart in which you were outlined?
Souls and nights and dollars and wine,
Old love and remembrance—I resign
All cities, all jazz, all echoes of Time,
But what shall I do with my green valentine?
Much have I seen, and much am I blind,
But none other than I has a leaf of this kind.
Where shall I send you, to what knowing mind,
My green valentine, my green valentine?
Yesterday’s love, tomorrow’s more fine?
All tonight’s sadness in your design.
What does this mean, my green valentine?
Regret, O regret, my green valentine.
Chiapas, 1954
Siesta in Xbalba
AND
Return to the States
For Karena Shields
I
Late sun opening the book,
blank page like light,
