Packed and all eyes turned in, no one to see on the quay. No one waving for me just the shoreline receding. Ticket in my hand and thinking wish I didn’t hand it in. Cause who said sailing is fine? leaving behind all the faces that I might replace if I tried on that long ride, looking deep inside but I don’t want to look so deep inside yet.
Sit down, sit down on the prow to wave bye, there might not be another stop, further on the line. Look out, look out at each town that glides by, and there’s another crowd, to drown in crying eyes. And see how that light you love now just won’t shine, there might just be another star, that’s high and far in some other sky.
We sing, is that marionette real enough yet to step off of that set to decide what her hands might be doing. Ruining the play to in the ensuing melee escape. We packed up all of our bags the ship’s deck now sags from the weight of our tracks as we pace beneath flags black and battered rattling our swords in service of some feted foreign lord.
We sail out on order from him but we find that the maps he sent to us don’t mention lost coastlines. Where nothing we’ve actually seen has been mapped or outlined, we don’t recognize the names upon these signs.
And every night finds us rocking and rolling on waves wild and wide, well we have lost our way, nobody’s gonna say it outright. Just go la la la la la la la la la…
You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land.
But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.
this has to be one of my favorite poems to ever be.