Hay algo un tanto sobrecogedor en el poema que transmite bien ese algo sobrecogedor que lo envuelve a uno al mirar estrellas. Lo que me recuerda que hace mucho que no lo hago como lo hacía en otros tiempos. Este verano será. Tengo un plan en remojo a las montañas que espero que me devueltas todas las constelaciones.
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SO MANY CONSTELLATIONS
So many constellations, dis-
played to us. I was,
when I looked at you—when?—
outside with
the other worlds.
O, these paths, galactic,
O this hour that billowed
the nights over to us into
the burden of our names. It is,
I know, not true,
that we lived, a mere
breath blindly moved between
there and not-there and sometimes,
comet-like an eye whizzed
toward extinguished matter, in the canyons,
there where it burned out, stood
tit-gorgeous time, along
which grew up and down
& away what
is or was or will be—,
I know,
I know and you know, we knew,
we didn’t know, for we
were there and not there,
and sometimes, when
only Nothingness stood between us, we
found truly together.
