Walcott It's not rhyming words at the end of a line. It's not form. It's not structure. It's not loneliness. It's not location. It's not the sky. It's not love. It's not the color. It's not the feeling. It's not the meter. It's not the place. It's not the intention. It's not the desire. It's not the weather. It's not the hope. It's not the subject matter. It's not the death. It's not the birth. It's not the trees. It's not the words. It's not the things between the words. It's not the meter. It's not the meter--
[timer beeps]
It's the timing
Charles Bernstein. (Part of the University of Pennsylvania's
"60-Second Lecture" series.
April 21, 2004. Intervalles 4/5)
Llegará el tiempo
cuando, con júbilo
te saludaras a ti mismo llegando
a tu propia puerta, en tu propio espejo
y cada uno sonreirá a la bienvenida del otro,
y dirá, siéntate aquí. Come.
Amarás otra vez al extraño que alguna vez fuiste.
Ofrece vino. Ofrece pan. Devuelve tu corazón
a sí mismo, al extraño que te ha amado
toda tu vida, al que ignoraste
por otro, al que te conoce de memoria.
Quita las cartas de amor de la repisa,
las fotos, las notas desesperadas,
despelleja tu propia imagen del espejo.
Siéntate. Celebra tu vida.
El amor después del amor. Derek Walcott
(Translated)
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