Pablo Neruda – Me gustas cuando callas Sunday, Oct 29 2006 

Taken from: Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada. Escrito por Pablo Neruda

Translation: Copyrighted 1969 to W.S. Merwin, published 1969 by Grossman Publishers.

ISBN: 0-14-243770-0

Me gustas cuando callas

by Pablo Neruda

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,
y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.
Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado
y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.

Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.

Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante.
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.

Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.

English Translation (which stinks, but what can you do?)

I Like for You to be Still

I like for you to be still: it as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not

    touch you

It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.

As all things are filled with my soul
you emerge from the things, filled with my soul.
You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like

    a dove

And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach

    you:

Let me come to be still in your silence.

And let me talk to you with your silence
that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
Your are like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile, is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it’s not true.

Pablo Neruda is my favorite spanish speaking poet, hands down. I know that most people don’t enjoy poetry at all, and even fewer guys do, but it’s really found a unique place in my life. Neruda directs his language so well in this poem, making you almost whisper most of it. Beautiful.

Soneto VIII Thursday, Oct 26 2006 

Soneto VIII
por Garcilaso de la Vega
~1500 a.d.

De aquella vista pura y excelente
salen espirtus vivos y encendidos,
y siendo por mis ojos recebidos,
me pasan hasta donde el mal se siente;

éntranse en el camino fácilmente
por do los mios, de tal calor movidos,
salen fuera de mí como perdidos,
llamados d’aquel bien que ’stá presente.

Ausente, en la memoria la imagino;
mis espirtus, pensando que la vían,
se mueven y se encienden sin medida;

mas no hallando fácil el camino,
que los suyos entrando derretían,
revientan por salir do no hay salida.

Sometimes learning a new language is really, really beautiful.

English Translation possibly coming soon…I’m not sure if I want to start trying to translate poetry.

Rocky Votolato – Alabaster Wednesday, Oct 4 2006 

on the outside looking in / i’ve never been able to crack the code / to break the secret spell / that would open up the door and let me in / to everything I’ve been looking for so hard I’ve never seen / but I feel my strength returning tonight / its flowing from the purest well to ever give water / It spills out into an ocean where the sharks are circling / a carnival of counterfeits has no room for something real

arrogance and ego wrapped around every word / shouted from the pulpit as a judgment to control / these were my roots my seed was thrown in shallow soil / I grew into the thorn bushes to be scorched by the sun / but I feel the gravel move beneath my feet / the smell of the gasoline mixed in with the trees / when my faith is strong I know my strength / the threats will be screamed when the vultures fell threatened

so I’ll open up the door and let you in / I want to break the alabaster smell the sweet perfume / and when the bottle is broken I’ll have nothing left to give / I’ll know I’ll already have everything worth having / but I feel my strength returning tonight / its flowing from the purest well to ever give water / it spills out into and ocean where the sharks are circling / a carnival of counterfeits want to crucify something real

“Alabaster” by Rocky Votolato

I dig this guy’s songwriting. My friend and I saw him at the M-Shop this past week, and I got the chance to ask him what this song was all about. He said that is was inspired by a verse from the Bible, to which I replied, “DUH!!” Ok, not really, but he also mentioned that it was about his search for God. He grew up in the baptist church down in Texas before moving up to Seattle as a young man to start his recording career. Cool guy, good writer, check him out.