From LEO'S WORKSHOP
leo looks at the woman's eyes
they look at him
from the stained photograph
of an old magazine
he sees her mona lisa
he says
while he browses the other reproductions
color details
leo smells the pestilence of the cat
dead in the corner
he smells the aroma
of the meat stew
from the soup kitchen
he smells the sausages being grilled in the friends'
shack
he smells the honeysuckle's perfume
behind
in the little earth backyard
in the back
before the river
that smells
leo looks at the world through the eyes of
mona lisa
and he only sees sky
but leo sees something lives
the broken photograph
of mona lisa urinated
by some dog
he sees
also the mother
standing
in front of him
the black hair
the red blouse
the white skirt
the brown shoes
put the hands like this mom
like mona lisa
and to the side the pile of bottles
of quilmes
beer
and the plastic drums
and behind the fence and the green leaves
of the vine
and the blue flowers of the bellflower
further back the black river bank
of the riachuelo and the black meandering
river
and in the back the fog
of pollution almost blocking
the buildings of the city
the two iron bridges
and above all the sky
purple blue red of the sunset
covering him
leo
the kid that paints his mother
mona lisa
the one in the picture while he dances
around the canvas leaning on
the black chair
made of plastic
on the earth of the little backyard
behind the shack
leo looks at the woman's eyes
they look at him
from the stained photograph
of an old magazine
he sees her mona lisa
he says
while he browses the other reproductions
color details
leo smells the pestilence of the cat
dead in the corner
he smells the aroma
of the meat stew
from the soup kitchen
he smells the sausages being grilled in the friends'
shack
he smells the honeysuckle's perfume
behind
in the little earth backyard
in the back
before the river
that smells
leo looks at the world through the eyes of
mona lisa
and he only sees sky
but leo sees something lives
the broken photograph
of mona lisa urinated
by some dog
he sees
also the mother
standing
in front of him
the black hair
the red blouse
the white skirt
the brown shoes
put the hands like this mom
like mona lisa
and to the side the pile of bottles
of quilmes
beer
and the plastic drums
and behind the fence and the green leaves
of the vine
and the blue flowers of the bellflower
further back the black river bank
of the riachuelo and the black meandering
river
and in the back the fog
of pollution almost blocking
the buildings of the city
the two iron bridges
and above all the sky
purple blue red of the sunset
covering him
leo
the kid that paints his mother
mona lisa
the one in the picture while he dances
around the canvas leaning on
the black chair
made of plastic
on the earth of the little backyard
behind the shack
Mario Sampaolesi
Translation by Marcela Moguilevsky
Translation by Marcela Moguilevsky