When ships were
sighted, Leghorn’s
courtesans,
Ran to the harbor,
half naked,
Carrying guitars
and lutes and mandolins,
Their hair
disordered, hoping their songs
Might lure the
ships to land. (Back then,
Sailors were an
aesthetic lot.) Don’t say
Today brings you
nothing – tonight
You’ll dream their
music. And that girl –
Red haired, with a
lute? -- treat her well; she
Is your
grandmother’s mother’s grandmother;
How can you miss
the resemblance?
No comments:
Post a Comment