She comes to me in the quiet of night,
When all is quiet.
She touches me gently, carefully
And commands me to come.
I know the cast is die,
When she tuggs gently at my arm.
Fumbling, still dead with fatigue,
She leads me.
It is in the silence I sit armed
With a pen.
I think she is with me,
When I feel her warmth.
I know she is with me,
When I hear her speak.
My friend, do not once think I am mad,
When in darkness I write and
At shadows I laugh.
Oh no!
I see her
I hear her
I feel her
I hold her
I hug her
I kiss her
I own her
I hate her.
You might call her a fragment of what is not.
But I call her Sarah.
Sarah embodies the Dream-Woman who occupies a place in every man's psyche. Jung considered her an aspect of the Anima, and one of his colleagues Karl Kerenyi associated her with the Sister-Archetype, who is not to be confused with a biological sister. She represents the Other who is fully responsive to the individual man's dreams and desires; the person whose silence is eloquent because she intuitively understands the man; the person whose affection is never ambiguous or compromised by other social dealings. She is the Ideal, and not to be confused with a real woman. WHEW! That was fun. Your poem expresses all of this intellectual stuff in a highly charged imaginative encounter. It TRANSLATES back and forth - Intellectual argument = Lyric poem. Take your pick, no, take both - they reflect each other.
A peculiar poem of hallucinated thoughts in night and beautifully created.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
remembering and constructing your thoughts of the one you missing.... her presence.. beautiful... :)