Azulejos
for Luca
The cover of the book reads Visit Spain.
It features, predictably, a whirling bull
skewered with lances, verging on collapse,
surrounded by men in trajes de luces
performing the great Spanish dance of death.
My mother used to read me the story
of Ferdinand, the strong yet placid bull
who more than anything wanted to laze
beneath his favorite cork tree, undisturbed,
inhaling a bouquet of summer flowers.
One day the businessmen came from Madrid
to cart him off and coax him to see red
but Ferdinand just lay down in the ring
admiring the roses in the women’s hair —
refusing to fight, refusing to be a pawn.
In his refusal, I glimpsed my own rebellion.
One day, I told myself, I’d visit Spain.
But not the proud Spain of the toreros.
Instead, the country I longed to see
was the playground of Picasso and Quixote,
strange amalgam of Phoenecian, Roman,
Arab and Jew, its sapphire coastline
sparkling differently in each season
with changing light. Here are Dalí, Buñuel,
García Lorca — all of them crushed in
among the artful crowd at Pamplona
dodging the horns as brilliant azulejos
scribble their abstract language on the eyes.
Marc Alan Di Martino’s books include Day Lasts Forever: Selected Poems of Mario dell’Arco (World Poetry, 2024 – translator), Love Poem with Pomegranate (Ghost City, 2023), Still Life with City (Pski’s Porch, 2022) and Unburial (Kelsay, 2019). His poems and translations appear in Rattle, iamb, Palette Poetry and many other journals and anthologies. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Currently a reader for Baltimore Review, he lives in Italy.