Ellis - I am here. I have been popping my head in even if I haven't sat down to write a whole lot. I will soon I promise. Life has been something, and I think I have hit all of the possible emotions in the last few days. But at least I will be in San Jose a week from Thursday.
Well, he was writing about the Gatineau Hills near Ottawa. They are the worn down remains of what was the Adirondack Range in the olden days. NOT THAT I REMEMBER THAT FAR BACK!
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
'I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'--
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,--
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby !
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.
I'd say thanks Ellis, but since I didn't write it it does quite seem like the right response.
one more -
Reassuring
Repetition is the tool for human learning
live, understand, enjoy, then live again
constant cyclic experience
leads me to believe
I have something yet to learn
These apprehensious anxietic moments
come each day unfailed
lived with so much desire
away from the goals in mind but,
repetition is the tool of human learning
digging empty errant holes
where revisited pains compound
repetition is the tool of learning
Filling these deep scars -
Caves the walls upon bruised souls
defined decisions must be followed
repetition is the wings of learning
break the cycle
absorb all experience in this chance
and create actions vase on Faith
never hid behind veils of ignorance
never doubt the journey
allow no fear to hold you down
Fly upon the wings of learning
live each day in joyous bliss
If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you will waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun, dream through your singing mouth.
I don't want your laughter or your steps to waver.
I don't want my heritage of joy to die.
Don't call up my person. I am absent.
Live in my absence as if in a house.
Absence is a house so vast
that inside you will pass through its walls
and hang pictures on the air.
Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love, I will die again.
Love the poem Ellis. I enjoy reading everything that you girls have posted.
Yup, the boy wrote it. I love all of his writings, but I am also very biased. I am very proud of him though. And I like to share what he writes. My favorite thing is when he reads them to me. I can not even begin to tell you how amazing it feels to be currled up, arms around me and him reciting a poem he wrote to me. Even though he didn't write them *for* me, it still feels great. I think I would just about burst into tears if he wrote one for me. Though he did write a 4 line one for me to ask me on our first date. I don't remember what it was though...
Squeak - your boy is very talented. How romantic to have a man read poetry to you that he has written.........
Thanks Ellis for the Neruda poem.
Do you know which of his books that one is taken from? So happy to find others who enjoy his work - especially someone as sweet as you - his work has had such an impact on my life.
Thanks, Terri.
I think the poem is from his "100 Love Sonnets".
Silentium Amoris
As often-times the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,
So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
And all my sweetest singing out of tune.
And as at dawn across the level mead
On wings impetuous some wind will come,
And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
Which was its only instrument of song,
So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.
But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.
