when he began to talk about love
(but to me it was mostly lust)
it was past midnight and i was already sleepy
(or was it drowsy)
for i could not believe every story that he was relating to me
it was something miserable
(and perhaps too unbelievable
why all the pain? where could happiness and her myths be?)
but
out of civility i pretended to listen
for deep within me the man in him is crying
begging to be listened too even for the last hours of the night
then he was asking some more
beyond what i could possibly give him
(i was thinking of someone else more deserving
love as higher than pity
empathy as more noble than sympathy)
and then i decided to cut short where the sobbing is
(i expected more than that
perhaps
the silence would have served us better
and the pauses like a comma between two long sentences
perhaps respect for feelings and then
i finally cut short where he was wanting more
i still have tomorrow to take care of
more things to do of equal importance
like love, family, society, public welfare,
like morality and decency
and obedience to authority
like religion and faith and
order and law and justice and tranquility
of the human mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
first n foremost, the title impressed me great deal...secondly this coming from a man amazes me...a typical situation a woman very often encounters...cudos to your feminine sensibility!