Francisco Tárrega’s Recuerdos de la Alhambra

The velvet sea, a spotlight sun,
a lone man in the theater’s arms:
the net-mender’s daughter comes down to draw
from the well of the guitar’s heart.

A whisper in the wings,
a wind through the rigging..
Why go on singing when the river’s gone?
Dusk wanders down the orchards of the guitar’s heart.

Why keep asking when you know the answer?
​​The moonflower blooms in the starry garden.
If silence were a woman she would wear your smile.
I’m adrift in the chartless eyes of the heart’s guitar.