Lost in translation


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In Latin or in Portuguese 

o sentimento de amor

Is just the same: 

The sentiment of love

Can quickly catch aflame.

A lack in the discipline

Of the eyes breeds

A brooding wish to exercise,

Or exorcise, a fire that re-iterates 

The eradication of disguise, desire

Leaves us contemplating the irreducibility of fate.

Extending the same disregard for grammar:

(declensions declined, parsing paused)

Shows us that the (in)significance of love

Cannot be denied.

These conjugations of love multiply mercilessly

And associations and connotations

Spread like the ripples on a lake

So that the eye is mystified

And the soul flies to its fate

In the garden of love.

Where a mere passer-by

Knows everything is fruitful

And all the tenses are  the same

And the forgetting is so-long

And the loving is so-short

That we would not contemplate love,

If all we knew was thought.

◄ Calculus

A blackbird sings on Blue bird hill ►


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