The Fire Was Lit / Weight

A couple of poems written in my journal while working at the movie theater yesterday evening.

The fire was lit
Before I knew
The dangerous dance
Of hanging up the habits
Of a tenderer time
And falling, head-first,
Into a world
Of decadent, impossible love.

But then,
You see,
The first among us
Are hardly last
And if you ask me
How to find the way to Paradise–
Well, what do I know
Of such things,
Except that a penny can’t get you there–
Neither in spring, nor in snow?

Tiredness, a weight around your neck that keeps you from sleep when all you wish for is sleep– for the reprieve of disappearance into a moment of non-being, a pause of responsibility in a living, breathing world.

The weight is heavy, yes, but you’ve forgotten what it is to be light, and soon you’ll have forgotten the rest– the smells, the sounds of happiness– since the world moves on when you’re still standing in the spot you couldn’t figure out how to leave behind.

The blast of a carrier wind brings you to a gentler place– quiet and kind. There, the people smile with whitewashed teeth and a pleasant look, but there is no hand to touch your arm, no mouth to tell you that it’s all right.

Yet the fact of being lonely is only a state of mind, a habit worn like an old fur coat, too cumbersome to remove when the air around you is still a bit chill.

Can you forget the words? It turns out, you can– you’ve forgotten the feelings, too. For in the mess of an unplumbed mind– the clutter of a hurting heart– everything gets remembered and forgotten all at once, so that the truth of any given thought swings in the uncertain balance of imperfect recollection.

But have I come close to describing the thud of losing hope, the thousand pieces of self that abandon themselves like vagrants when your simple faith is proven wrong?

Millennia of poets have sung the songs of love,
but who has sung your sorrow,
who has written of your impossible weight?

Una lunga storia d’amore

One of the most beautiful little songs I’ve discovered in recent memory. I think it’s just perfect, and Gianluca Ginoble does a lovely job of interpreting it.

My translation of lyrics: 

When I saw you arriving,
Beautiful as you are,
It didn’t seem possible to me
That among so many people
You would notice me.

It was like flying
Here, inside my bedroom,
Like in the deepest dream (or slumber) within you,
I’ve always known you and I’ve loved you forever.

Pretend that you’ll never leave me
Even though it will have to end sooner or later,
This long love story.
It’s already late now but it’s early if you leave.

Pretend that the time will pass
Only for us,
But it won’t pass,
This long love story.
It’s already late now but it’s early if you leave.
It’s too late but it’s early if you leave.

Grande Amore

I’ve been walking around my neighborhood singing this song, using passionate gestures and animated facial expressions–I probably look like a complete nut case to the people driving by.

Anyway, I love the wink at the 2:14 mark. I have a weakness for winks. (Credo che ho anche un debole per i ragazzi italiani….)

Asleep on the Grass / Addormentato sull’erba

In order to work on my Italian, I’ve decided to write some pieces and then translate them. I only began to learn Italian in February of this year, so of course I’m not fluent and I’m bound to make some mistakes. If anyone happens to speak Italian–you’re by all means invited to correct my errors and point me to a better way of expressing myself; I’d be grateful for the instruction. (Note that sometimes I opt for a loose or non-literal translation.) Here’s my first effort. Enjoy 🙂


Once upon a time, I found you sleeping on the grass, and you looked sweet, so sweet that I could have kissed you right then and there. But the rules being what they are, and my conscience always troubled by the thought of trespass, I just stopped for a long moment and looked at you.

It was a beautiful moment, really, because it was then I realized how long and black your eyelashes were, and how perfect a flush rested on your cheeks. You didn’t know this, but when I saw you for the first time—do you recall? we met in front of a church—I fell in love with the look in your eyes, and I spent that night lying awake in bed, trying to remember exactly how you looked when you looked at me. I was sure you must have felt the same—how could I have imagined such connection, such spark?—but perhaps I was only fooled by the intensity of my desire into thinking you liked me back.

At any rate, the day I found you sleeping, I realized something important about myself. For years, I had been trudging through life under the impression that love was a dangerous thing—something that, because it could harm, should be avoided at all costs. Or, if it were to be approached, it was to be approached with caution, for the thief of souls was always lying in wait to bring ruin to the ones ensnared by love’s false promises. Yet, as I stood looking at you—admiring the grace of your features, all calmed by sleep—a great peace came upon me and wrapped me in its arms. For a moment, or maybe two, I was overcome by a knowledge clearer and simpler than any I had yet possessed, and my heart spoke what my mouth could not. For in those instants, I understood that it was possible to love you even if you never said the words I longed for in return. Indeed, even if you never again gave me that look—the look that so quickly made me crazy about you—I could still feel content at having known one so sweet, and at having loved him without reproach or demand.

My friend, if ever you wish to know me better, I will be here and bursting with joy to see you again. But if, instead, you move on to other things—fall in love with other people, perhaps—I will bear you no ill and wish you the best, simply remembering your sleeping face and the warmth it once sent rushing all through my soul.

Italiano

C’era una volta che ti ho visto addormentato sull’erba, e sembravi dolce, così dolce che proprio allora volevo baciarti. Ma dato che nella vita ci sono certe regole, e che la coscienza ha sempre paura di sconfinare, mi sono soltanto fermata per un attimo e ti guardavo.

Era un momento veramente bello perché di colpo mi sono accorta di quanto fossero lunghe e nerissime le ciglia, e com’è aparso un rossore perfetto sulla guancia. Non lo sapevi, ma quando ti ho visto per la prima volta—ti ricordi? ci siamo conosciuti davanti a una chiesa—mi sono innamorata dello sguardo che avevi negli occhi e poi ho trascorso tutta la notte a letto senza dormire, tentando di ricordare precisamente com’era il tuo aspetto quando mi guardavi. Ero sicura che ti sentivi come mi sentivo io. Non è possible inventare un rapporto così forte che diventa quasi divino, vero? Ma forse era solamente l’intensità del mio desiderio che mi ha portato a pensare così.

Comunque il giorno che ti ho incontrato nel sonno, ho scoperto una cosa importante su di me. Per tanti anni avevo camminato a fatica per la vita; l’amore mi sembrava una cosa pericolosa che dovevo evitare ad ogni costo in modo di non farmi male. Oppure se volevo avvincinarmi all’amore, bisognava farlo discretamente, piano piano, perché c’era sempre un ladro di anime che aspetava nel angolo, cercando di disturbare chi credesse alle promesse ingannevoli dell’amore. Però quel giorno che ti guardavo—ammirando la grazia del tuo aspetto, tutto calmato e riposato—mi è venuta una gran tranquillità che subito mi ha preso in braccio. Per un momento, forse due, sono stata sopraffata da una conoscenza perfettamente chiara e semplice, e il cuore ha detto quello che non riusciva a dire la bocca. Perché in quelli istanti ho capito che era possible amarti anche se tu non avessi detto le parole che volevo così tanto in cambio. Infatti anche se non potessi fissarmi mai più con il tuo sguardo—quello sguardo per cui sono diventata pazza di te—avrei potuto essere contenta perché avevo conosciuto un ragazzo dolcissimo e lo avevo amato senza secondi fini. 

Amico mio, se hai mai voglia di conoscermi meglio, sarò qui, pronta e piena di gioia al rivederti. Ma se invece vuoi passare ad altre cose—o se ti innamori di altre persone—non ti auguro niente di male, anzi ti auguro ogni bene e mi accontento di ricordare il tuo volto addormentato… e di pensare alla magnifica luce che una volta mi ha fatto resplendere dopo averti visto in tutta la tua gloria.  

 

If You Forgot You Were Loved

When the time is right
…..and you have the eyes to see
you will find that I’ve loved you
…..all this time
……….and even longer

But you weren’t seeking
…..in the places
…..I sought you
……….most intently

For you were waiting on some other
…..to make your path straight
……….and your lamp lit.

When it comes to Love,
…..there is no place
……….one can go
……………and be apart from the Beloved.

Indeed, in the Kingdom of Love,
…..the only direction
……….is told by the star of Light
……….that shines from the eyes of the One
……….you can’t forget.

Why have you been seeking
…..what is not lost?

When you find your way by faith,
…..the impossible becomes possible:

For suddenly you know
…..that you are loved
…..even in the absence
……….of so many things which you long to see—

Beyond such visibilities
…..the heart enters into a knowledge
…..purer and deeper,
…..dipped in the soft waters of truth.

If you could find me
…..by losing your peace,
what kind of love would that be?

No, the way of the heart
…..is gentle and kind,
…..a salve to the soul,
always blessing and wanting to bless.

Live by these words
…..and indeed you shall be
a man or a woman of great wealth:

For you will have won
…..the secret of life
……….which so many have labored to find
……….and failed to see,
…..when in fact the truth is simple and smooth
…..as a stone.

Forget the things
…..that complicate your soul—
there is no room for these
in a house full of light.

Be rather the one
…..who knows that all things
…..belonging to Love
dwell also in your heart—

Waiting there
…..patiently
to set you free.

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