when i am old
i’ll sit under the palms with my brother
and we’ll sip san miguels
at the close of the day
we’ll speak
with no thought for tomorrow
or of its burdens
no, there will be better things
and many people to greet
they’ll pass by on their stroll
offer us grapes and olives
and wish us well this evening
and many others
the boredom will be pleasant
tapas will sustain us
i’ll play my guitar
and my brother
will dance with his skinny legs
and tell lies
god will send us women
we’ll giggle like brats as they walk by
admiring their retreat
we’ll break into songs of pirates
and there will be more than we can remember
of songs
of friends
of women
of tales
of evenings such as this
when i am old
when i am old, cuandao sea viejo
mi boreal interior collection
j.alonso
obeilar, espana
Poems by j.alonso may not be reproduced, copied or distributed without the written consent of the author.
Hinterlasse eine AntwortAntwort abbrechen