What’s the point of forgetting…?

A Song

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
And I sat near.
The handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin-bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you'd shift the gear.
We'd find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we'd repair
to where we've been before.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.

I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It's evening, the sun is setting;
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What's the point of forgetting
if it's followed by dying?

Joseph Brodsky

Time goes faster than I could believe, therefore I was convinced I had posted something recently... 
Dear lord, where did all those other days go? 
This poem fits in the melancholia I've been talking off before, but I wanted to share it anyways. 
I found it in my manual on literature, and it struck me with its simplicity and truth.
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12 Comments

  1. wow. I hate when the universe seems to be conspiring against me. Or maybe, it is the universe’s way of saying it feels my pain?

    Reply
  2. Ah, how time suddenly starts flying when you leave school.

    Mental it is.

    Reply
  3. I really liked this poem, simple but conveys the right sadness. Time flies, Astrid!

    Reply
  4. yes, definitely melancholy.
    but in rebuttal, the point is to enjoy the experiences.
    Even, later on, the sad ones.

    Reply
    • Somehow, I do believe melancholy is a sign you had a great time once, and perhaps it’s a good thing then?
      Either way we should not feel it too often, but there are plenty of things to dvert ourselves, like, reading your blog and stuff :).

      Reply
  5. Time flies – make sure you fly with it 😉

    Good poem 🙂 There are many people, moments, even items I wish were next to me on a sofa… Including my old sofa where I’d sing and read as a child 🙂 x

    Reply

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