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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390073" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>For Catherine: Juana, Infanta of Navarre</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ferdinand was systematic when<br>he drove his daughter mad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With a Casanova's careful art,<br>he moved slowly,<br>stole only one child at a time<br>through tunnels specially dug<br>behind the walls of her royal<br>chamber, then paid the Duenna<br>well to remember nothing<br>but his appreciation.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Imagine how quietly<br>the servants must have worked,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">loosening the dirt, the muffled<br>ring of pick-ends against<br>the castle stone. The Duenna,<br>one eye gauging the drugged girl's<br>sleep, each night handing over<br>another light parcel, another<br>small body vanished<br>through the mouth of a hole.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once you were a daughter, too,<br>then a wife and now the mother<br>of a baby with a Spanish name.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Paloma, you call her, little dove;<br>she sleeps in a room beyond you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Your husband, too, works late,<br>drinks too much at night, comes<br>home lit, wanting sex and dinner.<br>You feign sleep, shrunk<br>in the corner of the queen-sized bed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You've confessed, you can't feel things<br>when they touch you;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">take Prozac for depression, Ativan<br>for the buzz. Drunk, you call your father<br>who doesn't want to claim<br>a ha!fsand-niggergrandkid.<br>He says he never loved your mother.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No one remembers Juana; almost<br>everything's forgotten in time,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and if I tell her story,<br>it's only when guessing<br>what she loved, what she dreamed<br>about, the lost details of a life<br>that barely survives history.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">God and Latin, I suppose, what she loved.<br>And dreams of mice pouring out<br>from a hole. The Duenna, in spite<br>of her black, widow's veil, leaning<br>to kiss her, saying Juana, don't listen...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Erin+Belieu">Erin Belieu</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=390073" data-title="For Catherine: Juana, Infanta of Navarre de Erin Belieu" data-description="Ferdinand was systematic when
he drove his daughter mad.

With a Casanova's careful art,
he moved slowly,
stole only one child at a time
through tunnels specially dug
behind the walls of her royal
chamber, then paid the Duenna
well to remember not..."></div>
</div>
</div>