Love Sonnet XI
By Pablo Neruda
Translated by Nathaniel Tarn
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
I was in the mood for this because The Washington Post printed "A Mystery That Ends In Poetry: After 40 Years, A Tape of Pablo Neruda Is Finally Played Again".
I have no good explanation where Wednesday went except that it involved cleaning, mail, picking out Bar Mitzvah invitations, finishing fic, having cramps, rearranging son's Hebrew tutoring schedule, writing totally unenthralling Star Trek XI article and far more entertaining article on the York Maze which has a Star Trek theme cut in the corn this year, having more cramps and folding laundry while watching "Tapestry." (And parts of Celtic Woman again because we missed recording it last time.) And I need to go collapse because for whatever reason my brain refused to wake up properly all day!
A woman spinning yarn out of the angora rabbit fur.
The remains of the amusement park: the Crystal Pool...
...popcorn stand and theaters...
...and the Cuddle Up ride, now a stage and seating area.
The Theban Band posted a Ninth Doctor/Captain Jack pic! Work-safe, even! I wish Rose was in there, this is a definite case of 03P for me, but will take what I can get very happily. And celandineb is coming tomorrow! Who knows what trouble we will get into! *g*