the spain of my sorrows, for federico

the blood is black.
there is wine everywhere,
bloody ferment spilled:
scattered firmament.

those bull’s horns cut through
a starry sky, devastating.
that waxing reflection approaches.
tell the moon to forget who I was.

were there ever fragrant oranges,
castanets of a frightened child?
who calls forth from this dark,
shroud of torment i bear?

the shouted silence!
the musical sorrow!
oh, sunken heart,
find your wings.

there is blood everywhere,
in the wine, the hourglass
of night, and across the moon
my blood scatters the firmament.