THE ACTOR

The spotlights have damaged my vision and memory
I was Hamlet, Don Juan, a sixteenth-century
noble gentleman, adventurous and sensual.
I was flattered by applause, that remnant of glory.

The press photos, the cocktails... It was grand,
my life, and so easy. Inside, the set
was being collapsed. (Life has cost me
more dearly than most.) I was rich and lustful.

I had what men value: I had lovers,
traveled the world, had that vile thing:
fame. Now at the end, who am I?

Good-bye, the curtain will fall for the last time. The flowers
that await me are bitter. What will be left of me?
In the world's balconies my name was a god's.