Other Places,
Other Times
Courtly Love
Surprisingly for those feudal times, it was a
refined game of love in which a woman
might hold the power cards.
To prove his devotion and intent
the courting knight was expected
to declare himself her humble servant,
to show his unwavering devotion,
to obey her without question,
to call his lady "my Lord."
Thus, if she sent word to do his worst
he'd lose tournament jousts all day.
And if she commanded him to do his best
he'd route all comers and take the prize.
However refined the motive, he'd stoop
to the cheapest theatrics to impress her.
So, to keep his lady in his sight at all times
he'd fight with his sword behind him.
The best found it in themselves
to live a better life on a larger stage,
to be and achieve greater.
El deseo es rojo
You like to smile.
But you are like a fire
that wants to burn
forever. I like your
wide, white smile
framed by two vivid
red lips. Your hair
as well: a mane of
red that wants to be
admired. Attracted,
I draw nearer to
the thirsty flame.
The Abiding
Hard to say where my mind was that time
or even what day, month or season it was
when sitting in a middle school classroom
my knees just fitting under the wood desk
the teacher, his hair greyer than his years,
stood and began to recite, with emotion,
Farewell to a Friend, by Li Bai.
As if unleashed, something within me stirred.
Two friends parting as the sun sets in the sky,
one starting out to travel to places far away.
Then, as if guided by the poem just recited,
he turned and drew the images it conjured:
- the hills of the northern border
- clouds roaming above the landscape.
Like a great wind, love for ancient poetry shook me,
a love that, these many years later, does not subside.