Matthew Wilcox
El caballero de Olmedo
Dim blue night spins
around his head and
around his head
a shadow spins its own low whistle
dust clings to his tongue.
To his left the thick green grass
echoes the sound of cool water
and black stars rise—
drops of thick ink fall
when he lets go
the moon dances under him
as he writhes like a flower
A Note From the Author...
I wrote this poem after reading the play of the same name by Lope de Vega, which in turn is based off of a short song. I was intrigued by the blunt description of the death of "la flor de Olmedo" as he walked alone at night. Although the description is scarce, its tone painted an entire scene in my head. I tried my best to portray the mixed beauty of calm and suffering that makes up both this imaginary landscape and our everyday lives.
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