Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
W. S. Merwin, Separation
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W.S. Merwin, Separation
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"I’ve found a prisoner’s letters to a lover—
One begins: “These words may never reach you.”
Another ends: “The skin dissolves in dew
without your touch.”
—Agha Shahid Ali, from "The Country Without a Post-Office"
"Unreachable as I think of you, touching you with my eyes, watching you with my hands."
—Octavio Paz, from "Before the Beginning" (trans. Eliot Weinberger)
"Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color."
—W.S. Merwin, from “Separation"
"I love you, I'm waiting for you unbearably..."
—Vladimir Nabokov, Letters to Véra
"Who does not know what it is like to go with a friend to a railway station and then to watch the train take them away? As you walk along the platform back into the city, the person who has just gone is often more there, more totally there, than when you embraced them before they climbed into the train. When we embrace to say goodbye, maybe we do it for this reason—to take into our arms what we want to keep when they’ve gone."
—John Berger, "Will It Be a Likeness?"
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Even when I forget you / I go on looking for you
W.S. Merwin, from “To Myself”
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"I want to talk about what happened without mentioning how much it hurt. There has to be a way. To care for the wounds without reopening them. To name the pain without inviting it back into me."
— Lora Mathis, If There's A Way Out I'll Take It
"I want to explain how exhausted I am. Even in my dreams. How I wake up tired. How I'm being drowned by some kind of black wave."
— Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation
"It is night, I am as old as pain and I have no other story. We do not keep to the telegraph lines.
"Is there a map for this?" I call after.
"Is there even a name for this? I spend my life asking, is there even a name for you?""
— W.S. Merwin, from "One Way," The Moving Target (Macmillan Pub Co, 1963)
"I have a deep fear of being too much. That one day I will find my someone, and they will realize that I am a hurricane. That they will step back and be intimidated by my muchness."
— Michelle K., Rumbles From My Head
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thinking about this today.
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The Truth and Grunewald, Juan Ramón Jiménez tr. W.S. Merwin
[ Text ID: The pain left you without soul, as though dead. ]
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Every year without knowing it I have passed the day
When the last fires will wave to me
And the silence will set out
Tireless traveler
Like the beam of a lightless star
Then I will no longer
Find myself in life as in a strange garment
Surprised at the earth
And the love of one woman
And the shamelessness of men
As today writing after three days of rain
Hearing the wren sing and the falling cease
And bowing not knowing to what
-W.S. Merwin, "For the Anniversary of My Death"
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“The Furrow” — W.S. Merwin
Did I think it would abide as it was forever
all that time ago the turned earth in the old garden
where I stood in spring remembering spring in another place
that had ceased to exist and the dug roots kept giving up
their black tokens their coins and bone buttons and shoe nails
made by hands and bits of plates as the thin clouds
of that season slipped past gray branches on which the early
white petals were catching their light and I thought I knew
something of age then my own age which had conveyed me
to there and the ages of the trees and the walls and houses
from before my coming and the age of the new seeds as I
set each one in the ground to begin to remember
what to become and the order in which to return
and even the other age into which I was passing
all the time while I was thinking of something different
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Pablo Neruda (tr. W.S. Merwin), from Tonight I can write (in Twenty love poems and a song of despair, Jonathan Cape 2004)
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Milky Way Time Lapse: View of stars in the Milky Way Galaxy visible over an Earth. This time lapse of the Milky Way Galaxy taken from the International Space Station (ISS) also captured a lightning strike on Earth so bright that it lit up the space station’s solar panels. Astronaut Kjell Lindgren posted this on Twitter and Instagram on Sept. 2, 2015, saying, "Large lightning strike on Earth lights up or solar panels."
[Scott Horton]
* * * *
If you find you no longer believe, enlarge the temple.
~W.S. Merwin
[h/t Erin Coughlin]
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[ID of the poem "Old Sound" by W.S. Merwin:
The walls of the house are old as I think of them / they have always been old as long as I have known / their broken limestone the colors of dry grass patched / with faded mortar made out of the rusted earth / of the place itself from which the stones too had been / taken up and set in the light of days that no one / has known anything about for generations / many lives have begun and ended inside there / and had passed over the stone doorsill and looked from the windows / to see faces arriving under trees that are not / there any more with the sky white behind them and doorways / had been sealed up leaving in place the squared stones of their frames / and fires that had left the stones of one corner red / and cracked had gone cold even in their legends / the house had come more than once to an end and had stood / empty for half a lifetime and had been abandoned / by the time I saw the roof half shrouded in brambles / and picked my way to peer through the hole in the crumbling / wall at the rubble on the floor and ivy swaying / in the small north window across the room now the house / is another age in my mind it is old to me / in ways I thought I knew yet they go on changing / now its age is made of almost no time a sound / that you have to get far away from before you hear it
END ID.]
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“What I live for I can seldom believe in. Who I love I cannot go to. What I hope is always divided.”
W.S. Merwin, Teachers
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“What you remember saves you.”
― W. S. Merwin
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I by Pablo Neruda (tr. W.S. Merwin), from Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
Text ID:
Dark riverbeds where eternal thirst follows,
and fatigue follows, and infinite sorrow.
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