Monday, January 25, 2010

the pain of love

Le Baiser, de Carolus Duran

Derek Walcott: The Fist

The fist clenched round my heart
loosens a little, and I gasp
brightness; but it tightens
again. When have I ever not loved
the pain of love? But this has moved

past love to mania. This has the strong
clench of the madman, this is
gripping the ledge of unreason, before
plunging howling into the abyss.

Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.

1 comment:

  1. Thank you for your comment at my blog, João. I have since started to put up poems with more regularity, and often with comments in this category

    All these poets should be read and discussed more often. Poetry should be more popular, after all, it's so wondrous.

    You have a beautiful blog.