, Autumn Morning
by Steven McCabe
Poema 20
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, “The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.”
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Pablo Neruda
poemimage 
Thank you for this, Steven. It evoked an unusually rich reverie I could not ignore and inspired what might possibly be my first “real” poem. I’m feeling a bit giddy about this and If I find the nerve, I might post it. 🙂
I’m glad this spoke to you Jeanie. Congratulations on the poem. I will share this with you – of all the poets I ‘know,’ it is Neruda above all who evokes a certain resonance, feelings translating into words almost spontaneously. You too may have fallen under his charm(s). Whatever has tapped into your sensibilities I”m glad to hear of it. I’ll encourage you to post the poem whenever it feels right! :- )
Thank you, Steven. I’ve written a new post about this experience but am feeling too unsure of myself to share the poem yet.
I found your new post fascinating Jeanie & as for the poem I completely understand holding on to it; sometimes they just need to sit for a while.
That, and the fact that I’m afraid of looking foolish! It felt so important to me but it could mean nothing to someone else. This is just another hurdle my ego is going to have to face and overcome! 🙂
I hear you. Sharing deeply personally meaningful work is the hardest. Possibly explains obscurantist poetry. I think the hurdle will be manageable.:-)
Magnificent. Like watching a dream unfolding. Thanks for this!
Yes, I hear you. Like a dream unfolding. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your visit!
[…] yesterday morning I was blown away by the latest post from poet/artist Steven McCabe. His post “Autumn Morning,” is based on a poem by Pablo Neruda and complemented […]
Thank you for sharing this post!
Such a wonderful image, Steven – it complements Neruda’s words so well. If it was a book cover I would find it irresistible.
Thank you Richard. A simple response to the majesty of Neruda’s cloak (I think we can say cloak). Glad it would work as a book cover.
It is quiet, Steven, in a way that throbs. Your limited number of images is striking, when you usually have many as an accompaniment. I see how the light bends its way through your image- smoothly finding passageways through the space- finding a way to flow and survive. I love the poem- it is awfully sad.
Thank you Jack. Yes, such a sad poem. Beautifully haunting. Neruda’s duende infusing…Glad the shifting tones of the visuals have some appeal…Passageways is such a good word.
Some memories have sticky little hooks on them like burrs, it would seem. Beautiful swirling images, Steven. Aching and wonderful.
Thank you Karen. Love this idea of the sticky little hooks like burrs. Yes that’s a good kind of hook. Not a harpoon. Very glad you liked the aching swirl.