MY EMPTY THEATRE

My grandmother took me in her arms,

When I was small,

She lulled me, made me smile

Flowered my tender cheeks

She listened to my absurdities

Coped with my anger, my violence.

And later when my skin hardened

When my fingers lengthened

When my eyes widened

When I learned to see the moon alone

I turned my face away from her.

“You won’t understand”, I said.

And then the face of my grand father

faded and faded since his death

His long face, his silvery hair,

His kisses of love on my forehead

All went into air with him.

My love was always invisible

I always had the stage to perform

The right co-actors were ready.

But I didn’t Know how to act

Rather I denied to act.

And so my theatre was still

Never reverberated with applauses

My theatre was empty.

And then one day

I saw my grandfather

Sitting in one of the seats

Asking me to perform

“Which role?” , I asked

“Shakespeare’s Ophilia”, he said

“I don’t deserve Ophilia’s innocence,

I don’t deserve Ophilia’s heart of love

I can’t play her

I am too small for that”, I cried

And then he came towards me

Kissed me on my forehead

Stroked my hair with his long fingers

Ah! That touch of love he used to give me…

I smiled with ecstasy

Kissed his long strong hands.

And when I woke up

I was in the lap of my grandmother

Who was wondering at my kiss to her

After those long years.

Her wrinkled face bore tears

I told myself

“Your tears flowed from my river!”