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Marcia Baila

Marcia she dances on satin, on rayon
Hard expanded polystyrene at her feet
Marcia dances with her legs
Sharp like blades
Two arrows that give ideas
Sensations
Marcia she’s skinny
Lovely on stage as she is in life
Seeing her dance transforms me into a maniac
 
Moretto, how your lips
are huge when you smile
And when you laugh, I laugh too
You’re so in love with life
So what is this coldness then that one senses in you?
 
It’s death that has murdered you Marcia
It’s death that has consumed you, Marcia
It’s cancer you’ve taken under your wings
Now you’ve become ashes, ashes
Death, it’s like an impossible thing
And even for you, who are as strong as a rocket
And even for you, who are life itself, Marcia
It’s death that has taken you
 
Marcia dances a little like a Chinese
With warmth in her shoulders
Flat like a hieroglyph, an Inca of the opera
 
With the head, she also dances very well
And her face dances with all the rest
She looked for a new style
and created it
 
She’s the grasshopper
The siren sick with love
The dancer in flannel cotton
Or the cardboard paper
 
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Marcia Baïla

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