Solitaire was walking in a bright room
Her heart breaking with the Tarot cards.
Between pain and pain, she draws a card.
James Bond 007 is looking through the keyhole.
It is the letter of The Lovers that he has prepared
Or is the fate based in Harlem!
-If Bond comes tonight, I’ll give to him dinner.
And if he asks for clean clothes, I will change him.
Bond has left, we think it’s unnecessary to comment.
At night, comes Big, international band brain
Taking Solitaire, draging her, of hairs
Because she don’t want to leave with him.
He has mistreated her till the last stitch of his cloak
And, also, he has told her that Bond is son of a criminal
Who poses as a spy by Ian Fleming
That appears in the Ferguz Hall’ cards
As The Hanged Man.
The City has a unique chimerical fantasy
Its women have long hair, black and twisted eyes
City’ Cats, penetrating Eye Listings
Static rest next to the chimneys of houses.
-Good morning, Bond, we have your Beauty
We’ll fall in Love with her
if you don’t surrender to our band.
-I have a clean gun, and I have to unload it on your chest.
-Get up from here, Solitaire, come and throw the cards
That Love lifts women to hope
And a spy does not detract from his text.
Helping her get up, and also, coming to help
The King, the Queen, the Horse and the Jack
Allegorical Major Arcane
He has ridden her in his long floating car.
They have run five leagues
And in the shuffle of twentyone cards
The Lovers’ card has left.
Bond has stopped the car to carry out reading the card:
-Solitaire, behind that hermitage that you see in the distance
I’ll fall in Love with You
Intending to love You, loving You too much.
They will arrive at the hermitage and there
He kissed her modestly.
Upon entering the City, bells were ringing
Sounding like other times: “Live and let die”.
That the spy, to be a spy, must have three matches:
Do much, talk little and not praise in life.