Here is my favorite poem, written by Peruvian poet Cesar Vallejo. I wish I could find the original Spanish version but I haven't been able to in a long time. If I do though, I will memorize it so I can recite it.
This September night, you fled
So good to me… up to grief and include!
I don’t know myself anything else
But you, YOU don’t have to be good.
This night alone up to imprisonment no prison
Hermetic and tyrannical, diseased and panic-stricken
I don’t know myself anything else
I don’t know myself because I am grief-stricken.
Only this night is good, YOU
Making me into a whore, no
Emotion possible is distance God gave integral:
Your hateful sweetness I’m clinging to.
This September evening, when sown
In live coals, from an auto
Into puddles: not known.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
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