Night after night she gave refuge to the loneliness
of which I am made, day and then night again
she danced in the dirtiest bars and in her body

I saw the dreams of a thousand girls revolving,
and in her eyes I saw a thousand yearnings, and each time
she turned, it was as if she turned just for me.

She was naked and divine, my Olympia of the ballet,
and when she moved in the half dark, the tricks of light
on her belly and her thighs made all the flesh tremble

and come alive, and I didn’t care if she only remembered
my name to forget the past, I knew it wasn’t for me
but when she came to me and took my hand, I loved her,

and if I had known each instance of her sexual life
intimately, I would have loved her all the same,
and if she had told me, every man who took her

took her more viciously with every coming
I would have loved her more again,
and if she had told me she had worked her body

to feed the kids, I would have given my heart to her
as surely as I would give my heart to my own mother,
and if she had told me of the violence in some men’s eyes

I would have held her until the morning sky had filled
the room with light, and if she had told me she loved me
I would have been the happiest man alive.