about love

La cita de mi admirado Jarvis parece ser de Platón:

“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.”

I wrote the song two hours before we met

I didn't know your name or what you looked like yet
Oh, I could have stayed at home and gone to bed
I could have gone to see a film instead
You might have changed your mind and seen your friends
Life could have been very different but then
Something changed

Do you believe that there's someone up above?
And does he have a timetable directing acts of love?
Why did I write this song on that one day?
Why did you touch my hand and softly say
"Stop asking questions that don't matter anyway
Just give us a kiss to celebrate here today"
Something changed

When we woke up that morning we had no way of knowing
That in a matter of hours we'd change the way we were going
Where would I be now, where would I be now if we'd never met?
Would I be singing this song to someone else instead?
I don't know but like you just said
Something changed

Y esto que sigue forma parte de mi brutal regalo de reyes. Brutal es poco.

Let Love Go, If Go She Will

Let love go, if go she will.

Seek not, O fool, her wanton flight to stay.

Of all she gives and takes away

The best remains behind her still.

The best remains behind; in vain

Joy she may give and take again,

Joy she may take and leave us pain,

If yet she leave behind

The constant mind

To meet all fortunes nobly, to endure

All things with a good heart, and still be pure,

Still to be foremost in the foremost cause,

And still be worthy of the love that was.

Love coming is omnipotent indeed,

But not Love going.  Let her go.  The seed

Springs in the favouring Summer air, and grows,

And waxes strong; and when the Summer goes,

Remains, a perfect tree.

Joy she may give and take again,

Joy she may take and leave us pain.

O Love, and what care we?

For one thing thou hast given, O Love, one thing

Is ours that nothing can remove;

And as the King discrowned is still a King,

The unhappy lover still preserves his love.

Robert Louis Stevenson

QUE SE VAYA EL AMOR SI QUIERE IRSE

Que se vaya el amor si quiere irse.
No quieras, necio, interrumpir su vuelo
extravagante. Lo mejor de todo
lo que ha dado y se lleva se queda aquí.

Lo mejor queda aquí. Sería inútil
que tras dar la alegría y tras quitarla,
se la llevase para darnos pena,
si deja a su espalda al huir
la firmeza de un ánimo que sufra
con dignidad las cosas que suceden,
un fuerte corazón, y ser aún puros.
Estar siempre a la altura del destino,
ser dignos del amor que hubo en nosotros.
Es todopoderoso cuando llega
el amor, pero no cuando se va.
Que se vaya. Pues brota la semilla
al amparo del aire del verano,
crece y se fortalece, y cuando acaba
el tiempo del verano, queda en pie
un árbol que es perfecto.
La alegría
es algo que se da y que se arrebata,
Perdiéndola el dolor la sustituye.
¡Oh, amor! Dime, ¿qué importa que así sea?
Lo que nos diste, amor, ya es todo nuestro,
es imposible que alguien nos lo quite.
Un destronado rey será rey siempre,
y aún es suyo el amor del desdichado.

Traducción de Carlos Pujol

Lo que sigue creo recordar que por aquí ya ha aparecido antes, pero no importa, es pertinente. También me lo trajeron de regalo ayer:

Y la guinda la corono yo, que no viene de mano amiga, sino propia. También redundante, también da igual: