Barcelona
Above Placa Real the palm trees nod
like caged giraffes. Pubescent prostitutes,
dressed-up in ra-ra skirts and Lurex boots
patrol their pitch. As evening falls an odd
pink light pervades the patched Baroque arcade.
A girl steps from the shadows, face aglow,
like some doomed saint by Caravaggio;
her sallow beauty mocks the drab parade.
Across the faded square a duo plays
upon accordion and clarinet,
up-beat and strangely phrased, 'Those Were the Days'.
Fooled by the atmosphere of veiled regret,
we quietly deny what we became,
pretending yet, 'our dreams are still the same.'
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"Barcelona" is a Baudelairean city sonnet, which begins with a striking image of palms as caged giraffes. The "caged" aspect of that image leads on to other negatives like patched, drab, and faded, but there are also pink light, beauty, and music. The atmosphere is tawdry, sad, exotic, and romantic. This well-executed sonnet is a bit confusing as to point-of-view. The opening lines are generalizing and observational. Then we have a close-up of a beautiful girl, and must decide whether she is one of the patrolling prostitutes: line 8 perhaps says that, though she is pale and sickly, her beauty contrasts with the other hookers passing by. Then the sestet gives us music -- the forced gaiety of a Beatles tune -- and the speaker is no longer an observer but part of an inclusive "we." Is the speaker now to be seen as one of the parade, or as one of their customers, or simply as a deluded member of humanity?
[This message has been edited by Richard Wilbur (edited May 12, 2008).]
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