Tanto fué el cántaro a la fuente...

¿Y si el vaso estuviera medio-vacío tras llenarlo con todo el agua del mar?
¿Qué pasaría si quedara espacio en mi cajón tras esconder todos los planetas del sistema solar?
¿Sería posible escribir todo el conocimiento humano en mi libreta?
Entonces... tal vez mis sentimientos no hagan estallar mi corazón.

Cada vez que me voy

"Sigo esperando en la ventana para verte llegar...

tachando lunas del calendario

caen mis pulsaciones como luces en la ciudad.



Pasan las horas mientras sigo empañando el cristal...

Clamando que te quiero a mi lado,

se abren las cortinas de mi corazón al marchar."




A veces nos partimos en dos y cruje nuestro corazón hasta quedar unido tan solo por un delicado y doloroso hilo. Sin ánimo de egoísmo, bombeamos más un lado que el otro... porque el otro parece estar fatigado ya. ¡Qué injusto es para ese lado que tanto sintió para nosotros, que tanta vida nos dio... y qué inevitable es calibrar cada latido del que se separó hasta hacerlo crecer! Maldad inocente que da la mano a la confusión tal que un niño acepta el caramelo del extraño. Una vez hecho esto, resulta difícil encontrar el aglutinante para tales parásitos sentimientos, la clemencia propia y ajena, y el adhesivo para las roturas adecuadas... Mea culpa! pero es que nadie nos enseñó a albergar tanto amor en un único corazón.

THE THREE BUSHES

SAID lady once to lover,
'None can rely upon
A love that lacks its proper food;
And if your love were gone
How could you sing those songs of love?
I should be blamed, young man.'
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

'Have no lit candles in your room,'
That lovely lady said,
'That I at midnight by the clock
May creep into your bed,
For if I saw myself creep in
I think I should drop dead.'
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

'I love a man in secret,
Dear chambermaid,' said she.
'I know that I must drop down dead
If he stop loving me,
Yet what could I but drop down dead
If I lost my chastity?'
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

'So you must lie beside him
And let him think me there.
And maybe we are all the same
Where no candles are,
And maybe we are all the same
That strip the body bare.'
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

But no dogs barked, and midnights chimed,
And through the chime she'd say,
'That was a lucky thought of mine,
My lover.  looked so gay';
But heaved a sigh if the chambermaid
Looked half asleep all day.
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

'No, not another song,' said he,
'Because my lady came
A year ago for the first time
At midnight to my room,
And I must lie between the sheets
When the clock begins to chime.'
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

'A laughing, crying, sacred song,
A leching song,' they said.
Did ever men hear such a song?
No, but that day they did.
Did ever man ride such a race?
No, not until he rode.
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

But when his horse had put its hoof
Into a rabbit-hole
He dropped upon his head and died.
His lady saw it all
And dropped and died thereon, for she
Loved him with her soul.
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

The chambermaid lived long, and took
Their graves into her charge,
And there two bushes planted
That when they had grown large
Seemed sprung from but a single root
So did their roses merge.
i{O my dear, O my dear.}

When she was old and dying,
The priest came where she was;
She made a full confession.
Long looked he in her face,
And O he was a good man
And understood her case.
O i{my dear, O my dear.}

He bade them take and bury her
Beside her lady's man,
And set a rose-tree on her grave,
And now none living can,
When they have plucked a rose there,
Know where its roots began.
O i{my dear, O my dear.}

W. B. Yeats