It's a feeling
That there is no way
I already tried to fool myself
I did everything to forget
But the truth is that I only know how to love
Y O U
That there is no way
I already tried to fool myself
I did everything to forget
But the truth is that I only know how to love
Y O U
Someone will remember us
I say
even if in another time
Sappho translated by Anne Carson
I say
even if in another time
Sappho translated by Anne Carson
Wouldnt it be wonderful
if all our letters could be published
in the future
in a more enlightened time
Then all the world could see
how in love we are
correspondence between WWII soldier Gilbert Bradley & sweetheart Gordon Bowsher
if all our letters could be published
in the future
in a more enlightened time
Then all the world could see
how in love we are
correspondence between WWII soldier Gilbert Bradley & sweetheart Gordon Bowsher
“
It was spring when we walked
together
and you taught me the names of the flowers.
Lily of the valley, pear blossom, Carolina jessamine.
You turned your face to me and I felt that I had
loved you since the billowing sheet of Chaos.
How am I to go on living
after having felt that?
O, do you remember. Our many, many befores.
Maybe you hear them, stirring
from a room in you that is older
than womb. You and I did carry
candles down castle corridors as children once.
And we baked bread, and we filled pies!
We wore moonstone on our twisted fingers.
You were boy and I was fish
and when you pulled me from the water I glistened
and your father was proud.
In the kitchen that evening you cut a lemon
and squeezed a sliver
over me, giving me
moon, rain, the promise
that we would live again someday.
and you taught me the names of the flowers.
Lily of the valley, pear blossom, Carolina jessamine.
You turned your face to me and I felt that I had
loved you since the billowing sheet of Chaos.
How am I to go on living
after having felt that?
O, do you remember. Our many, many befores.
Maybe you hear them, stirring
from a room in you that is older
than womb. You and I did carry
candles down castle corridors as children once.
And we baked bread, and we filled pies!
We wore moonstone on our twisted fingers.
You were boy and I was fish
and when you pulled me from the water I glistened
and your father was proud.
In the kitchen that evening you cut a lemon
and squeezed a sliver
over me, giving me
moon, rain, the promise
that we would live again someday.
—lyra and the thrush ; heaven fay
☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾
You ask my why all of my writing sounds
sad, but you don't understand the way it
manifests. The way my words are strung
fairy lights, in an empty house at
midnight, trying to make all of the dark
edges beautiful again.
☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾
You ask my why all of my writing sounds
sad, but you don't understand the way it
manifests. The way my words are strung
fairy lights, in an empty house at
midnight, trying to make all of the dark
edges beautiful again.
☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾
‘Tis a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be –
to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
And a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched.
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be –
to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
And a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched.
