PUSUANON LAUNCH, 1/22/08

photo by gerome palma.

ST. ELMO'S FIRE IN THE HEART
(Santelmo Sa Puso)

A name died on my lips today.
-Maryanne Moll

Sadness will absorb all feelings
because we live in such a troubled time
when you and I will be seen as two
even if we wanted to be one, even if we have hesitations,
or second thoughts of turning back, we move on,
round and round the circle which caged us, this world
this boundless land shrunk by consciousness
for you think that the you is never meant for me,
that everything that is, is you, the you is the flesh,
the you is the soul, the you of all times.

I will say: I love you this first night
you are with the longed-for hope,
the healing of the wound brought by time
of captivity and amazement of the small world
that I created, that was created for me. Mine alone.
I will say, I am afraid of your kindness,
for everything that is you, the embrace next to breath,
the desire to love, the you in existence.

Perhaps, you will not understand the hurried
speech, let it be, I will stop again
at the time when your name dies
or from the unfeeling flesh, at a time when everything
becomes nothingness and nothingness is everything.

Love is such a terrible thing, it is in the lips.
Hold me, let me feel that what was reserved
is more than this world, for I will cross into fear,
I will cage the hope that you are the one reserved for me
and I am the one reserved for you, hold this body,
the wind wounds, there are eyes watching,
silence me, tell me that there is only one outcome,
one surge, one feeling.
Then the eyes will look far
not hoping anymore of ever meeting again
even if the light gazes at us, kissing us.

Translation by Frank V. Peñones Jr.