At Genesis we sang, learned to hold hands
And then abandoned one, the other too
Disappearing through the world, men strange and new
Unable to express the loss, to sing or cough
Or even to admit the weight
We carried down the road, inside a common soul
That space, that place of emptiness
To which some part within us fell, since we let go
The grip we held when juvenile and brave
We would not give it voice, to comfort
And assist, that it was both of us who bore
The weight and felt the loss the same
We could not ask, what kind of love, my friend,
Among loves manifold, are we?
What love is worthy of our name, what place
In you is that cold corner where I lay?
Will you once lift a hand to find
And touch the place in me?
When we were teens, I kissed your future wife
And now thirty years on, it's late, as you
Might say, to make a fuss of life
And I've been scared, I've never dared
To push on your home gate
To ask if you remember where
We put these heavy things, and if
They can be disinterred
To celebrate our love again.
To England I returned, and watched the birds
Above you, as you hauled the weight of all
The expectation and uniqueness of your soul
Your back and talents hurt like hell.
My weight is less, don't be afraid, I'll bring
My new creations lightly to your side.
(For D.P.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A rather intense piece (good) of double-meaning; deeply personal. Never regret alone, always apologise and offer to amend and with sincerity and empathy... oh... you just did.... and deeply eloquently so. t x