Love Knows Not 'Why? ' Poem by Paul Hartal

You can touch a stone, a tree or a flower
But not the human heart, he thought
Isolated from the conversation,
Which went on faintly luminous
Non-stellar formations, elliptical shells,
Amorphous cosmic clouds, lunar crevasses
And the conquest of space by man.

But his mind was wandering far away
Contemplating there is no ‘why? ’ in love
(“Quod quaeris,
‘Quare? ’ non habet ullus amor.”)
Pondering things that happened last night,
How happy they were, delighted and ecstatic
Sweet trembles fading on the winding path.

Yet the magic now is over
Just a blurred memory remains
Less than a forget-me-not,
A windflower or a daisy
Just the infinite longing on the riverside
And in the house.

Only overwhelming sorrow and pain remain
Immersed in the wind-borne sound of a bell
From a distant church of town
And beyond flesh and blood
The everlasting love in transitory words
Bursting through the passion
Of a smashed glass of red wine in the hand.

And those sad falling leaves on the street,
Oh my Lord, please, grant tranquility
To our restless aching souls
My Lord, why are not there cheerful loves?

His heart is pulsating
Like solar eruptions and Cepheids
His feelings are like the retrograde motion
Of Oberon
Oscillations of the expanding universe
Shadows in Mare Imbrium
And vanishing slowly in Cassiopeia.