The Man Who Loves Me

The man who loves me
Should know how to part curtains of flesh.
Fathom my eye’s depths
And know that in me nestles
A tender transparent sparrow.

The man who loves me
Will not covet me like a commodity
Nor exhibit me like a sportsman’s trophy.
He will stand by me
Loving me just as I love and stay by him.

The man who loves me

Will be strong like ceibo trees,
Solid and sheltering as they are
Clear as a December morning.

The man who loves me
Will not distrust my smile
Nor fear my hair’s profusion.
He will respect, sorrow, silence.
And with caresses, he will play
Upon my stomach, as on a guitar
Making music and pleasure issue
From my body’s recesses.

The man who loves me
Will discover I can be
A hammock on which to rest his
Burden and cares,
A friend whom to share intimate
secrets.
A lake on which to float,
Without fear that the anchor of
commitment
Will prevent flight
Should it occur to him to be a bird.

The man who loves me
Will make poetry of his life
Structuring each day
With his gaze set on the future.

But above all else
The man who loves me
Must love people
Not as some abstract category
Mentioned carelessly
But as something real, concrete
To whom one show devotion through
Actions
Giving up one’s life if required.

The man who loves me
Will recognize my face in the midst of
battle
And with knee bent to the earth, he
Will love me
As the two of us fire together at the enemy

My man in love
Will not fear giving himself
Nor fear finding himself magically
smitten
In a plaza filled with great crowds.
He will be able to shout “I love you”
Or make extravagant announcements
on top of buildings
proclaiming his right to feel
The most beautiful and human
emotion.

My man in love
Will not flee kitchens
Nor the diapers of our child
His love will be like a refreshing breeze
Carrying away among mists of
dreams and the past
Weakness that, for centuries kept us
Divided
As beings of different worth.

My man in love
Will not want to stereotype and
Standardized me.
He will give me air, space.
Nourishment to give and improve
Like a revolution
Which makes of each new day
The beginning of a new day
The beginning of a new victory

-Giaconda Belli-

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Man Who Loves Me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s