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Monday, July 15, 2013

ALWAYS, After Pablo Neruda

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ALWAYS, After Pablo Neruda

Do not believe,
Do not suppose, if even for a moment,
That I care.
Forget about it!

I am not concerned about those other men,
The lovers who came before me.

Your friends, the guys who once had staked,
Had boasted title to the blood rush of your heart,
They mean nothing to me.

Come to me carrying an old boyfriend on your shoulders.

Show me that picture,
The one which has a hundred men sniffing your hair.
Conjure up a mother goddess image,
A thousand guys nestling between your breasts,
Or tell me you have had acolytes adoring your feet.

Flood me over as were your memories
A monsoon river torrent, when in mid-July it empties
The mountain-gulley slopes of Goa,
And speeds all great, red earth out into the Arabian Sea.

Roar into me with the tidal wave of all your mementos,
The debris of your keepsakes,
The twisted wreck of every precious gift,
Which once had been bestowed upon you
From the bleeding hearts of your now-drowned lovers.

Let me see the length and width, that terrible demolition,
How long the debris stretch as all your memories hit the beach,
How deep and far its tear inland, up, over the coastline!

All humanity succumbs to the timeless motion of the surf.

Yet here I am.
I wait, I am waiting for you.
No matter what, who you bring along.

We are alone, we shall always be alone,
We shall always be you and I.

And here -- here is the time when,
The place where, our love begins anew.
Our affection reaches beyond the stint of ordinary dimension,

It has settled in for the term we call immortality.


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