Gods 
Created Rhodes,
Surrounded it with iridescent 
Blue waters,
Filled out its curves with 
Sparkling green,
And kissed its face with hues of peach.
They brought down 
The Goddess of music
Placed a bouzouki in her hands
And gave her the voice of the wind
And rain
And sea
And heart,
And commanded her to sing. 

Rounder, barer, undulating
More than this
You will never find.
This Garden of Eden,
All the smooth fruit
Dripping a dark, peach-amber hue.

He did not know
That a woman loved him all night long
The next day a careful hand
Fluttered across his cheek
Her eyes full
Her voice rain
 
He did not know
That a woman loved him so
Each night
Tearing him from sleep
Gathering darkness from darkenss
And coming with a shout into his body.

What is this temor grasping
the end of July
bowing the oak
even the moonlight has lost its way
What is this tremor passing by
and the wine trees swaying before me

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The wine I gave up long ago
The music too
And the only light on in my room
Is the blue one
Every evening
Out of habit
Almost like the moon outside
And seeing it has about the same effect
I forgive
Provided that you are the night
Climbing the milky way.

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I don't belong here

I don't belong anywhere

Gypsy eyes hint at a Gypsy body

even a Gypsy soul

tonight I'll dance

among the bonfire scarves

feet bare to the sand

hands bare to the flames

don't covet

the whispering coals

I don't belong here

I've grown leaves from the wind

blowing east from the desert

treeless, rootless

an open tent sail

I am love

passing through.

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In the old city of Salvador
de Bahia
Dona Flor, unkempt,
In a dress that denies its buttons
Wafts through the alleys
Winking to each
Of her husbands.

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Atop her Ferari,
Between the hills rising from Malia,
Laden with odors of wild herbs,
No one can compete with her when she smiles
Spinning her beauty like a web until you are spellbound.

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Dona Flor, unkempt,
In a dress that denies its buttons
Wafts through the alleys
Winking to each
Of her husbands.

He did not know
That a woman loved him all night long
The next day a careful hand
Fluttered across his cheek
Her eyes full
Her voice rain
 
He did not know
That a woman loved him so
Each night
Tearing him from sleep
Gathering darkness from darkenss
And coming with a shout into his body.

Turning on his axis of time
With wrought iron motions
His face transfixed as in a distant photograph
He takes the wood in hand
And ploughs it into soup ladles,
Stirring the rhythm and colors of life