Las Muralles May 19, 2011
Posted by Jen Pappas in Cartagena, Poems and Misc..add a comment
Once impenetrable,
once the cache of pilfered
jewels and money,
where the Spanish came
to bathe in gold ducats
and pull women’s hair.
Once the grand fortress,
once the unconquerable
treasure trove
of the 17th century.
Now anyone can scale your walls.
Cartagena,
even your name sounds romantic.
Who could blame the lights
or cobbled streets –
the balconies adorned in wild bougainvilleas
for drawing the tourists in droves?
Who could have foreseen
the thousands of people
who would pose by your cannons
and enter your dungeons
before ordering overpriced cocktails
on the cusp of your northern walls,
overlooking the sea?
Everywhere we see
the disappointing decay
of Calle Media Luna…
which we have come to learn
means
half moon
and other times, croissant.
Oh, how the walls must wail
some nights,
deep in their mortar.
For the splendor lost,
the secrets untold,
the magnificent duty…
How they must wail too
for all the facades
that have risen up instead,
silencing the past.
1/8/10
