prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2001-10-24 - 12:00 p.m.
because his words carry so much more beauty than I could EVER offer you, I give you the gift of Pablo Neruda today, and because ~ I looooove the way you Play~
~ Every Day you Play~
Every day you play with the light of the Universe
subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, everyday between my hands.
You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south ?
Oh let me remember you as you were, before you existed.
Suddenly, the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a night crammed with shadowy fish
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.
The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind, the wind.
I can contend only against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.
You are here. OH you do not run away.
You will remember me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.
Now, now too, little one, bring me honeysuckle,
even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.
How you have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.
My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want
to do with you what spring does to the cherry trees.
~Pablo Neruda
oh my god, isn't that just so exquisite ? I mean, that last line makes me weak and my heart flutter with an unknown longing. A longing I can not even begin to describe, because I guess I am waiting for the moment when I can read that thought upon the face of someone I love.
and really, we all deserve that moment. don't you think ?
old starlight - new starbright
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