On Love: Poems

"Colette"My mother used to say, "Sit down, dear,and don't cry. The worst thing for a womanis her first man–the one who kills you.After that, marriage becomes a long career."Poor Sido! She never had another careerand she knew first-hand how love ruins you.The seducer doesn't care about his woman,even as he whispers endearments in her ear.Never let anyone destroy your inner spirit.Among all the forms of truly absurd couragethe recklessness of young girls is outstanding.Otherwise there would be far fewer marriagesand even fewer affairs that overwhelm marriages.Look at me: it's amazing I'm still standingafter what I went through with ridiculous courage.I was made to suffer, but no one broke my spirit.Every woman wants her adventure to be a feastof ripening cherries and peaches, Marseilles figs,hot-house grapes, champagne shuddering in crystal.Happiness, we believe, is on sumptuous display.But unhappiness writes a different kind of play.The gypsy gazes down into a clear blue crystaland sees rotten cherries and withered figs.Trust me: loneliness, too, can be a feast.Ardor is delicious, but keep your own room.One of my husbands said: is it impossiblefor you to write a book that isn't about love,adultery, semi-incestuous relations, separation?(Of course, this was before our own separation.)He never understood the natural law of love,the arc from the possible to the impossible…I have extolled the tragedy of the bedroom.We need exact descriptions of the first passion,so pay attention to whatever happens to you.Observe everything: love is greedy and forgetful.By all means fling yourself wildly into life(though sometimes you will be flung back by life)but don't let experience make you forgetfuland be surprised by everything that happens to you.We are creative creatures fuelled by passion.One final thought about the nature of love.Freedom should be the first condition of loveand work is liberating (a novel about lovecannot be written while you are making love).Never underestimate the mysteries of love,the eminent dignity of not talking about love.Passionate attention is prayer, prayer is love.Savor the world. Consume the feast with love."Two (Scholarly) Love Poems"I    Dead Sea ScrollsI was like the words              on a papyrus apocryphon                           buried in a cave at Qumran,and you were the scholar              I had been waiting for                           all my life, the one readerwho unravelled the scrolls             and understood the language                           and deciphered its mysteries.2     A Treatise on EcstasyTouching your body        I was like a rabbi pouring                  over a treatise on ecstasy,                            the message hidden in the scrolls.I remember our delirium        as my fingers moved backwards                  across the page, letter by letter,                            word by word, sentence by sentence.I was a devoted scholar         patiently tracing the secret                  passages of a mysterious text.                             Our room became a holy placeas my hands trembled          and my voice shook                 when I recited the blessings                             of a book that burst into flames.