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A Portrait of Antonio Machado (Edit) (Other) by Sasha

My boyhood is all memories of a patio in Sevilla, And how an orchard bore its share of lemons come the fall, My growing up: some twenty years in regions of Castilla The rest of it's a thing or two I'd rather not recall. I'm not a playboy, never been Don Juan or gone for Juliet. -You know I'd never fit the part. My style is dull and old- Yet Cupid had an arrow with my name and I endured it But only loved the girls I knew would have a friendly soul. Although my veins are pulsing blood enough for revolution My poetry comes flowing from some from a well that's calm and pure, And more than any guy around who knows the catichism, I'm truly "good" at heart in every good sense of the word. It’s beauty I aspire to. With the sheers of new asthetics I've cut some ancient roses from the garden of Ronsard, But I disdain that modernistic dappling of cosmetics, I'm not a fan of muses singing latest avant-garde. But hell with lovey-dovey tunes of certain hollow tenors, The choirs of unceasing crickets crooning at the moon. I quiet down to try and tell the voices from the echos, And out of all the voices heard I listen for just one. Am I romantic, or a classic? Don’t know. But I rather Would leave my poems somewhat as a captain leaves his blade: Famed for the manly hand whose fingers brandished it in battle And not the learned forger’s fist that had the metal made. I hold a conversation with a guy who's always with me -The man that talks alone may talk with God someday in grace- What I soliloquize is only chatting with this fellow Who taught me all the secret things of how to love my race. I don't owe you a thing, you see, you owe me for my writings. I go about my work with care. I scrimp and save to buy The clothes and suit that warm me up, the roof to bar the weather, The bread that helps me stay alive, the bed in which I lie. And when the day arrives when I must make the final voyage, The ship that never comes again will lift the anchor free. You'll find me boarded with the crew, with very little luggage With scarce a rag upon my back, like children of the sea.

Sasha 11-May-04/5:11 PM
NE ME QUITTE PAS

Don't you leave me now,
Now we must forget
All we can forget
All that's left us now;
To forget about
All the times we fought
And the time we lost
Trying to figure out
How we might forget
When attacks of "why?"
Helped our hearts kill time,
How it thrills me! yet
Don’t leave me now...

I will offer you
Beads and rain-made pearls
That come from a world
Where it never rains.
Roam the land and sea
Till I gasp and die,
With a golden gleam,
And a sheen of jewels
Build your realm to be
Where love’s everything
Where love is the king
Where you'll be the queen
Don’t you leave me now

Don’t you leave me now
I will recreate
Words and what they state,
Things you'll know about,
Tales of lovers who
Fell away and then
Fell in love again
As their love stayed true
There’s a story too
That I must describe
Of this king who died
Of not meeting you
Don’t you leave me now

And it’s true that new
Flames can burst and blaze
From a peak thought done
With volcanic days.
Seems a burning field
Scorched in blasts of heat
Could give us more wheat
Than April's best yield
When the night is nigh
Burning overhead,
Can't the black and red
Twine across the sky?
Don’t you leave me now

Don’t you leave me now
Now I'll cry no more
And I'll sigh no more
Hide myself somehow:
See your dance anew,
Hear the song you sing
Hear your laughter ring,
Watch you smiling too
Let me be for you:
Shadow of your shadow
Shadow of your hand
Dog at your command




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