Wednesday, October 20, 2010

soneto por veinte años de amor (en estilo Góngora)

Men, deposit your appreciation, this
I will hold secure until death do us part
that more dangerous lips are not yours to kiss
or more fiendish arms have locked away your heart
Your willing martyr, I lie in fire’s embrace
no less in chains than when I did shackled start
on a platter she still wants my head no less
but no sweeter image tears this love apart

I chose to Sampson this Delilah for you
I fell asleep d’aquel licor sagrado
awoke still blind chained to this love mill I lean

(hapless friends…) to you the conquest of amor bajado
and to love your chosen as the love you choose
My grave inscribed with this, “Victim of Charlene”
I have always been lost to the wonderful woman without whose love I would be otherwise completely lost. There are not enough words to tell you what I feel but I am sure of this – a greater and more fantastic love I am positive does not exist save the one she gives to me everyday. So for as much as the rest of you “hapless” friends who think you might have found true love – forget it. I found it you can stop looking now!

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