We didn’t know that about him then
when we started reading his books.

But once we found out, they were always
there – in the trenches of his war stories;

in the grandstands at his racetracks and
boxing matches; present at his bull fights

or padding softly through the dirty Parisian
streets; there were always the lions. Solemn

slow-moving beasts whose large paws made
no noise, and whose whiskey-coloured eyes

missed nothing