Sat
May
22
Her voice motioned on its way to that unseen world. Now, with the message sent, the words said, she wanted to call them back, to censor, to rearrange them, to make a prettier sentence, a fairer explanation of her soul. But already the words were hung between planets and if, by some cosmic radiation, they could have been illuminated, caught fire in vaporous wonder there, her love would have lit a dozen worlds and startled the night side of Earth into a premature dawn, she thought. Now the words were not hers at all, they belonged to space, they belonged to no one until they arrived, and they were traveling at one hundred and eighty-six thousand miles a second to their destination.
-Ray Bradbury, The Wilderness
אני הולך לבכות לך
תהיה חזק למעלה
געגועי כמו דלתות
שנפתחות בלילה
לנצח אחי
אזכור אותך תמיד
וניפגש בסוף, אתה יודע
ויש לי חברים
אבל גם הם כבים
אל מול אורך המשגע
כשעצובים הולכים לים
לכן הים מלוח
וזה עצוב שלהחזיר ציוד אפשר
לא געגוע
לנצח אחי
אזכור אותך תמיד
וניפגש בסוף, אתה יודע
ויש לי חברים
אבל גם הם כבים
אל מול אורך המשגע
וכמו הגלים אנחנו מתנפצים
אל המזח אל החיים
אביב גפן, לבכות לך
Fri
May
21
No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.
Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.
Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,
sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.
Sonneto XVII, Pablo Neruda
“The fact is that you carry part of your sickness within you…”
“… I denounce because though implicated and partially responsible, I have been hurt to the point of abysmal pain, hurt to the point of invisibility. And I defend because in spite of all I find that I love. In order to get some of it down I have to love. I sell you no phony forgiveness, I’m a desperate man - but too much of your life will be lost, its meaning lost, unless you approach it as much through love as through hate. So I approach it through division. So I denounce and I defend and I hate and I love.”
“… Being invisible and without substance, a disembodied voice, as it were, what else could I do? What else but try to tell you what was really happening when your eyes were looking through? And it is this which frightens me:
Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak for you?”
Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man
About suffering they were never wrong,
the Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
W.H. Auden
