I am here
for I wanna communicate with the world
I decide to take a break, I sit down on a wooden bench
the view can’t reach any further than two meters
as I look up to some beautiful, old, grenade apple-pink
probably sacred, building
I gaze and doze away, when
like some sudden natural disaster
.. she brutally wakes me from a content nothing
the wind and the energy she puts in her act of begging
make her long tattered skirt blow up
like a pale butter-yellow flaming whirlwind
.. she performs a Tasmanian Devil’s dance
startled and against my will, I look up
her hair covered with a similar tattered
yet brightly colored, cloth
.. she shows me -what�s left of-
her black-golden cracked teeth
through an enormous smile of intense grieve
as if she had just sacrificed her long lost believe:
“Unoh c�ntimoh, por favoh, pa’ comeh…” (unos c�ntimos, por favor, para comer)
and she points a finger to a petite street-smudged girl
grey skin, black eyes and greasy long hair
.. she’s pouting
I try my hardest not to fall for it, nonetheless
captivated by her dark charm
my hand goes through my minim handbag:
I ain’t got no ‘c�ntimoh’… I assure her
whereas my eyes read slight panic
.. she still strongly holds me under her spell
and I hand over the chocolate bar
which before, I was gladly sharing with my little sister
“.. it’s black chocolate, very nourishing!”
I passionately inform her in perfect Castellano
with a grim nod she reaches out to grasp the dark candy bar
and then the tiny child’s hand
.. she twirls along and takes a turn
at San Juan de Dios (Saint John of God)
I look at my baby sis as I say: “Wow…”
“Yes.” she confirms
—
August 2009; Calle de San Jer�nimo (street of Saint Jerome)
in front of La Parroqu�a de Santos Justo y Pastor
(Saints Justus and Pastor); Granada, Spain
Yasmin Levy – La Locura
