Here follows an episode
Of self-preservation.
I was then influenced by
The music of Wagner.
It was 1865.
I was on vacation
In Cologne, a city known
For musical theater.
I asked a guide to take me
To interesting sights.
He brought me to a brothel
In the Jewish district.
I found myself surrounded
By a dozen eyes made
Fierce by charcoal and glitter.
I couldn’t say a word.
As if in a dream I went
To the piano and played.
It was just two or three chords
Improvised without thought
But it broke the spell of lust.
I quickly hurried out.
I realized later what
I revered in Wagner:
His unending melodies
Which start very far along
And end without finishing.
To them I surrender
As a tired man to the waves.