Classic Poem

Friend, do you remember the time we went
into that lofty hotel, that grand hotel, in Leeds?
That spacious, that noisy, that solemn hotel,
that formidable, terrifying hotel, and the four of us
together: you and Ilyanus and his girl?
When all eyes
sent angry arrows at us,
remember?
First we sat in a far corner, then got up
and moved toward the center,
sat there under the full glare of the lights
drinking and chatting,
half serious, half amused,
discussing things,
remember? How we wanted to stay there all night,
ignoring the eyes around us,
how we shed our alien caution, though misgivings remained,
anxiety that wore a mask of calm
as a girl might, modest and intelligent, but shy,
who glimpses evil and looks away,
she walks on, alert, shaken,
on guard against attack, pretending to be calm.

Remember? I'll never forget that mood, our talk, our joy,
glasses brimming,
cigarette smoke floated above us, blurring the lights
and people sat together, drinking and conversing
And I'll never forget
how suddenly your glass
fell to the floor,
that brimming glass, how it spilled its contents
and was shattered in a million pieces,
how your face showed the shock, changed color,
how the world around you suddenly went quiet,
how that heavy awesome silence spread
and filled the place; and the doors, the lights, the ceiling
were all eyes,
a low whisper spread, the walls, the cops, the street
listened,
an annoyed whispering disclosing
human baseness, the camouflaged hypocrisy.
Remember how you stayed bravely sitting in your chair,
looked for excuses, whatever came to your mind,
referring the actual evil
to a metaphysical design,
proposing a theorem about
the treachery of Fate, the will of God
who defeats fantasy. O what excuses you invented
for the breaking of that glass
when it was shattered in a million pieces,
when the ceiling and the doors heard the crash!

Are they unteachable, those who know better?
Does one curse the malevolent? What good does cursing do?
Like fantasy your glass was gone, broken in that populous hotel,
that lofty, that awesome, that formidable, that noisy, that solemn hotel
in Leeds —

What a crash it made, a shrieking sound,
that echoed and echoed.
No! Don't curse Fate, what good does cursing do?
Like fantasy your glass was gone; your friends were consoling you.

That was a moment, buried in the past
Always, when I remember it, I feel
laughter filling my heart and soul.
Do you remember it?