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rainer rilke
Immer wieder, ob wir de Liebe Landschaft auch kenne und den kleinen Kirchhof mit seinen klagenden Namen und die furchtbar verschweigende Schlucht, in welcher die andern enden: immer wieder gehn wir zu zweien hinaus unter die alten Baume, lager nuns immer wieder Zwischen die Blumen, gegenuber dem Himmel.
Again and again, though we know the lie of love's land, and the poignant names in its little churchyard, and though we know that the others ended in a terrible, silent ravine: Again and again we go out together under the ancient trees, we lie down together, again and again, two by two - among the flowers, faces up to the sky.
Their actions and mine, and those of many women I had known in my life were variations on the one theme. The ravings about love, the going onto beds in locked rooms with men picked up in bars, the exposing of bodies, the marriage vows spoken against reason to cruel men, the days made bearable by tranquilizers, the kisses delivered with eyes tight shut. It is not a great distance from the poor madwoman in Hanwell Asylum babbling about being f***** by the gardener, to the old lady who sheds one tear, in her neat, nursing-home bed, at Madame Butterfly singing ecstatically on a distant radio about the fine day when Pinkerton will come back to her. Even when we seem to be gathered safe into the fold of marriage, we can be driven by a dream of fulfillment and completion that leads us - like sheep hunted over a cliff by a wild dog - into a terrible fall - My Dream of You, Nuala O'Faolain
L'attesta lunga, Il mio sogno di te non finito
The wait is long, my dream of you has not ended
Someday my happy arms will hold you
And someday I'll know that moment divine -
When all the things you are - are mine.
From '500 days of summer': ".. but I like her. She's not like the girl of my dreams. But I like her. She's better than the girl of my dreams. Because she's real..."
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