Writer’s Note:
I ended a long term relationship in college and felt, perhaps, the typical emotions. We loved each other--at least that's what we said--and saying goodbye to our love felt like breathing thin air.
Losing someone, as much as it is painful, is also natural. It was through that goodbye that I learned even our best selves, better nature, and faith in something better can't prevent things from falling apart. I've learned, of course, that we don't just lose people. We lose ourselves. Our visions and dreams become new ones. Our skin transforms into something we never thought we'd live in. Yet we must continue, immersed in the river of our lives. You never know where the stream will take you, enlivened by loss.
aunque el viento nos golpea, ya no es ese otoño. los árboles mueren, pero esta vez renacen.
aunque el amor sigue frágil, ya no es ese otoño.
los árboles rojos que vi
en la víspera de los muertos
ya no son fantasmas.
agradezco:
las palabras que me diste
cuando menos las quería
la libertad que tuvimos
aunque fuera sin saber
la lluvia que escuchábamos
cuando el día nos alcanzaba
la novela que escribiste
y el cuento compartido
la mirada ha cambiado
pero es solo así
el cambio.
(Translation from the author)
even when the wind beckons us to the ground - it's no longer that fall
love's still fragile, but it's no longer...
my thanks:
the words you gave me
when I wanted them the least
the freedom we had,
unknowingly
the rain that would fall,
with the inevitable
end of the day --
the novel you wrote
and the stories we shared
the gaze has changed
but
That's change, right?
and I, of course, am no longer I.