jueves, 21 de junio de 2007

Remenbering Marie A. Bertold Brecht







It was a day in that blue month September



Silent beneath the plum trees' slender shade



I held her there



My love, so pale and silent



As if she were a dream that must not fade



Above us in the shining summer heaven



There was a cloud my eyes dwelled long upon



It was quite white and very high above us



Then I looked upAnd found that it had gone



And since that day, so many moons in silence



Have swum across the sky and gone below



The plum trees surely have been chopped for firewood



And if you ask, how does that love seem now



I must admit, I really can't remember



And yet I know what you are trying to say



But what her face was like, I know no longer



I only know I kissed it on that day



As for the kiss, I long ago forgot it



But for the cloud that floated in the sky



I know that still and shall forever know it



It was quite white and moved in very high



It may be that the plum trees still are blooming



That woman's seventh child may now be there



And yet that cloud had only bloomed for minutes



When I looked upIt vanished on the air

STILL PLAYING...