Dead Love: Poets and Stars

Clément is the ghoul, the outsider—always longing for what he cannot have, which is probably why he’s mad-crazy about Octavio Paz and especially this poem. It is haunting, you know. I like it in Spanish, but also translated … I think by Clément.

Homenaje a Claudio Ptolomeo

Soy hombre: duro poco
y es enorme la noche.
Pero miro hacia arriba:
las estrellas escriben.
Sin entender comprendo:
tambien soy escritura
y en este mismo instante
alguien me deletrea.

Homage to Claudius Ptolemy

I am a man: little do I last
and the night is enormous.
But I look upward:
the stars write.
Without knowing, I understand:
I, too,  am written,
and at this very moment
someone spells me out.

—Octavio Paz

—Erin Orison, DEAD LOVE/the Daily Slice

Orchid photo courtesy of Lowry McFerrin, copyright Lowry McFerrin

  • boldlow

    Fantastic poem – haunting yet magical. The Spanish know how to capture longing and suspend it in time and verse.