sad poems make me cry.

Elegia Para Tu Ausencia - Eugenio Florit

Te fuiste aquel minuto para toda la muerte

a navegar en hondos oceanos de silencio

con un largo camino de pupilas dormidas

y un bando de palomas prendido a tus ensueños.

Ya estaras por ausentes claridades de luna,

mas tuyo que en las flechas de tu reloj de oro,

donde contabas tanto minuto sin orillas

para la sed de alas que quemaba tus hombros.

Y habras saltado mares que la inquietud miraba,

abismos en la timida soledad de tu ausencia;

y en la noche habras sido tenue brisa caliente

junto a aquel pedacito de tu amorosa tierra.

Largo abrazo de alientos sobre las amapolas

y una risa, y un canto sin palabras ni musica;

y un aquí estoy gozoso de pasados insomnios,

y un para siempre calido en la fria llanura.

Como partiste en brazos del silencio apretado,

resonara mas viva la luz de tus palabras;

y en cada estrofa de aire se enredara un acento,

y en cada mariposa te naceran mas alas.

Gozo de estar ya vivo para el eterno dia,

de saberte en el agua, y en el sol, y en la hierba.

Haras entre las nubes Nacimientos de plata

y encontraras tu nido en un arbol de estrellas.

here's the english version:

Elegy for Your Absence

H.R. Hays

In that moment you sailed for all of death

Into profound oceans of silence

With long hours of sleeping pupils,

And a flock of doves caught in your dreams.

Now you are already in distant moonlight,

More yourself than in the arrows of your golden clock

Where you reckoned such a shoreless moment

For the thirst of wings that was burning on your shoulders.

You shall have vaulted seas stared at by inquietude,

Abysses in the timid solitude of your absence;

And in the night you shall have been delicate warm breeze

Close to that crumb of our amorous earth.

Long embrace of breath over the poppies

And a laugh and a song without words or music;

With a “Here I am,” glad of past wakefulness,

And a “forever” warm in the cool plain.

As you leave pressed in the arms of silence

The light of our words shall echo more clearly

And in each stanza of air an accent shall be entangled

And in each butterfly more wings shall be born to you.

Gladness of being alive for that eternal day,

Knowing yourself in the water, in the sun, and in the grass.

Among the clouds you shall make nativities of silver

And you shall discover your nest in a tree of stars.

This one, and the last one I posted, are going in the program. Which I have been putting together, which surprisingly helps me keep my mind off things. Interesting.

Also, the dress in the photo? Now hanging in my closet...until I can get to a dressmaker. Anyone know a good seamstress in the Valley?