Crazy Wind
Someone’s gone completely mad over me,
telling nonsense to the press.
Whoever it is, I wish they’d just stop—
but when they do, I’ll only hear of it in my thoughts.
They say I shot a man named Gray
and stole his wife in Italy.
She inherited a million dollars, and when she died,
she came to me.
Well, what can I do if I’m just that lucky?
People stare at me all the time, not knowing how to act,
minds cluttered with ideas, twisted facts and images.
Even you asked me yesterday where I’d been.
I couldn’t believe it—after all these years,
as if you’d never known me,
sweet lady.
A crazy wind that blows each time I speak,
blowing through the streets that lead down south.
A crazy wind that blows whenever your teeth clench—
you’re crazy, little one,
only God knows how you breathe!
I met a fortune-teller who warned me to watch for lightning.
No peace or calm, not since I can remember
how things once were.
A lonely soldier nailed to a cross, smoke rising
from a box’s door—
you didn’t know, didn’t believe it was possible,
yet in the end, he won the victories
after losing every fight.
I woke on the edge of a road, dreaming of how things
sometimes are—
how they must be accepted—
visions of the stallion racing through my mind,
so that even starlit eyes could see me.
You hurt those I loved most,
and masked the truth in lies.
One fine day you’ll find yourself in a ditch,
flies circling your eyes
and blood on your thigh.
A crazy wind blowing through the flowers on your grave,
through the curtains of your room.
A crazy wind blowing whenever your teeth clench—
you’re crazy, little one,
only God knows how you breathe!
It was gravity that brought us back to Earth,
and fate that tore us apart.
You tamed the lion in my cage,
but it wasn’t enough to change my heart.
Now everything’s turned upside down—
and by the way, the wheels have stopped turning.
What is good is now bad—you’ll see it
when you reach the top.
But now, you’re at the bottom.
I saw it during the ceremony,
your corrupt ways have finally made you blind.
I can no longer recall your face—
your mouth has changed,
your eyes no longer see mine.
The priest wore black on the seventh day,
stood stone-faced as the building burned.
I waited for you long by the billboards,
near the cypress trees,
as spring slowly turned into fall.
A crazy wind blowing around inside my skull,
from Grand Coulee Dam to the Capitol.
A crazy wind blowing whenever your teeth clench—
you’re crazy, little one,
only God knows how you breathe!
I can’t feel you anymore,
can’t even touch the books you’ve read.
Every time I crawl to your door,
I wish I were someone else.
Down the road, down the tracks,
on the path toward rapture—
I followed you beneath the stars,
haunted by your memory
and your tattered glory.
This time I’ve been crucified anew,
for the final time—and at last, I’m free.
I gave one last kiss goodbye
to the snarling beast on that border line that divided us.
You’ll never know my pain,
the torment I rose above—
and I’ll never know yours:
your sanctity, your kind of love—
and for that, I feel deep sorrow.
A crazy wind blowing through the buttons of our coats,
blowing through the letters we wrote.
A crazy wind blowing through the dust of our shelves—
we are both crazy, little one,
and only God knows how we feed ourselves.
