Author’s Note: This poem came to me in Spanish, the language in which my poetry tends to breathe most freely. English often demands precision; Spanish allows surrender. “Devoción” is a meditation on the unspoken humiliations of love — the strange dignity of remaining loyal even when one is unseen. For readers who don’t speak Spanish, I’ve included an English translation below.
Me acostumbraré pronto al rincón oscuro donde colgaste mi querer, como quien abandona un abrigo que ya no volverá a usar. Haré de mi soledad una vieja compañera, esa que no pregunta y solo existe en el silencio de un corazón que apenas recuerda latir. Construiré castillos sobre el desaire de este amor que no osas confesar. Viviré en la penumbra constante de lo que niegas— de lo que sientes pero no admites, porque rendirte a esta pasión te sería demasiado. Yo seguiré aquí, porque aun sin cadenas en los pies felizmente me declaré tu esclavo. Estaré aquí cuando de tu mundo el sol se aleje y el frío te reclame, y mi piel solo te sirva de abrigo. No me iré, aunque ignores mi existencia como quien aparta la mirada de aquello que vergüenza le provoca. Mi devoción solo compite con la de tus canes, que te aman tanto como tú los amas. Y aun así, te amo más aunque finjas día a día ni siquiera saber que existo.
Translation:
I will soon grow used
to the dark corner
where you hung my love,
like someone discarding a coat
they will never wear again.
I will make of my solitude
an old companion,
the kind that doesn’t ask
and only exists
in the silence of a heart
that barely remembers how to beat.
I will build castles
upon the indifference
of this love
that you do not dare confess.
I will live in the constant shadows
of what you deny—
of what you feel
but won’t admit,
because surrendering to this passion
would be too much for you.
I will remain here,
because even without chains on my feet
I happily declared myself your slave.
I will be here
when the sun moves away from your world
and the cold claims you,
and my skin
serves only to keep you warm.
I won’t leave,
even if you ignore my existence
like one who looks away
from that
which causes them shame.
My devotion
only competes with that of your dogs,
who love you
as much as you love them.
And even then
I love you more—
though day after day you pretend
not to even know
that I exist.
Final Reflection:
Love does strange things to the architecture of the self.
Sometimes it builds us up. Sometimes it leaves us standing faithfully in the dark corner where we once hung our hearts.
— from The Resurrected Poet series
Beautifully written.
Beautiful