The Beast

by Ramón Eduardo Morales Castell -

© 1978 illustrations: Mercer Mayer
ISBN 0-590-07497-0 Original edition, Four Winds Press.

Haga clic aquí para la versión española

I love him!

I love the Beast!

When I´m alone here
I feel the calling
And go up through the stairs
Hoping not to perturb
His mysterious works
Hidden in some nook
Ready to burst in screams
And groans and demands.

I soar to the tower
Where my books wait for me
My great window
To the outer world
And my dear bird
That longs for me every morn
Silent in its bird cage of gold

Such as me.

O precious ave
Why if you can fly
Do not so
Why if I open the cage
Insist to caress
Just the palm of my hand.

Spread your little wings
Enough for a world
Freedom to reach
Wherever you want to go
The perfect instrument
Of your will unknown.

Why if you possess such ones
Insist to be my friend.
You are just my own heart
Able to fly in an instant
In a rage of fantasy
To unkown places

Able to sing
But prisoner as you are
In a golden cage
I stay here with you
In this castle of shadows.

What is this that bind us,
What is the promise
And what is the hope.
What is the magic
That procure to retain us
Under the shadow of the Beast

Now sweet...
Terrible later.

Almost I understand your song
Sweet sounds confused
Red and golden
I´m afraid to translate from it
What am I whispering
In my prison-room.

And if you could talk
Dear bird of my heart
We speak the same sentence.

Should resound in all the woods
And should come as a storm,
Snow in the middle of the desert.
Even if we say it in silence
Undecipherable chant
Like the song of your bill
They would not desire to understand.

Little ave prisionera
Prisoner of the spelling
Of the Beast
Let us sing in unison
The hymn of our submission

The chant unusual
Of souls involved:

I love him!

I love the Beast!