O Blanca Virgen

Oh, pure virgin, come to your window.
Come to the balcony, listen to me.
Sir, I shall scarcely hear your singing;
Men’s songs have no hold on my heart;
My heart is a nest of its own enchantment;
It lives in the heights, alone, apart.

Then by magic I’ll turn into an eagle;
Into that heaven on wings I’ll lunge!
No sir-into a golden fish I’ll change me,
And swiftly into the ocean plunge.

Virgin, I’ll turn into the waves of the ocean;
I’ll toss you around and conquer you there.
Then I’ll become a dove, soft-feathered,
And hide myself in the fields of air.

There I shall be as the rain and lightning,
Turning you over and pressing you close.
Then I shall be a nun with cowl and hood;
I’ll leave the world, for the world is gross.

Gross is the world; I’ll turn into parchment,
And touch you in the guise of your Book of Hours.
If sir, you come through the convent’s portal,
You’ll find me dead among the flowers.

-Ballad from Mexican California

Berkeley’s poetry Walk was laid in October 2003 along Edison Street between Shattuck and Milvia Streets. The route includes 128 metal plates with excerpts from songs, each of which is related in one way or another to the city of Berkeley.