31/10/04
Solía, antes del sueño, acudirme a los labios una palabra, un nombre. En apenas tres letras cabe la forma de entrar al sueño, a un abrazo que le ha faltado al día (me detengo sobre el folio para notar que ya hace casi un mes sin abrazo tipo alguno), al pensamiento tranquilo y a la promesa.
Ahora el nombre es el mismo y el sueño, otro.
Ahora el nombre es el mismo y el sueño, otro.
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Esta mañana he ido a cazar a la Librería Española de Saint-Laurent con l'avenue de Napoléon, y mira lo que hay garabateado en la primera página de mi presa:
TIGER DRINKING AT FOREST POOL - A poem by Ruth Padel
Water, moonlight, danger, dream.
Bronze urn, angled on a tree root: one
Slash of light, then gone. A red moon
Seen through clouds, or almost seen.
Treasure found but lost, flirting between
The worlds of lost and found. An unjust law
Repealed, a wish come true, a lifelong
Sadness healed. Haven, in the mind,
To anyone hurt by littleness. A prayer
For the moment, saved; treachery forgiven.
Flame of the crackle-glaze tangle, amber
Reflected in grey milk-jade. An old song
Remembered, long debt paid.
A painting on silk, which may fade.
Besos,
Jerusha
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TIGER DRINKING AT FOREST POOL - A poem by Ruth Padel
Water, moonlight, danger, dream.
Bronze urn, angled on a tree root: one
Slash of light, then gone. A red moon
Seen through clouds, or almost seen.
Treasure found but lost, flirting between
The worlds of lost and found. An unjust law
Repealed, a wish come true, a lifelong
Sadness healed. Haven, in the mind,
To anyone hurt by littleness. A prayer
For the moment, saved; treachery forgiven.
Flame of the crackle-glaze tangle, amber
Reflected in grey milk-jade. An old song
Remembered, long debt paid.
A painting on silk, which may fade.
Besos,
Jerusha
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