lunes, abril 14, 2003

I don't know how SARS has been effecting the rest of you. Probably about as much as that chicken disease in Hong Kong a couple years back..not at all...above some vague thoughts and time filling small talk.

For me, it's been a significant force. No cases in New Zealand yet, but it has been shutting down travel efforts left and right. My own travel plans after New Zealand were to Singapore, Hong Kong and Guang Zhou for a month. :-( yes, these are commonly known as the hotspots.

I quote from the http://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/sars/travel_advice.htm "Don’t go to mainland China, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Hanoi, unless you really have to. You can still go to Canada. SARS doesn’t seem to spread there right now."


There were some others to travel to as well- hopefully Seoul, maybe Hiroshima, and almost definitely Taiwan and the latest addition of Siberia...however, the main bit was Singapore. As a result, I am unable to buy my ticket off of this remote island.

If all else fails, I have met the most lovely, likeable and entertaining Siberian boy with whom I would be happy to spend the extra time...so maybe I'll get to see quite a bit of Siberia. I have to admit he's the bright side to this whole grim affair. (God never shuts a door but he opens a window)
This whole situation reminds me of the time a couple of years ago when I was finally going to knock three more states off of my "I haven't been there" list- Montana, N. and S. Dakota...unfortunately they were on fire at the time of travel and I had to see half of Canada instead. Of course this is how I discovered that Ontario has some fabulous wineries... :-)

Searching through my old emails, cleaning out the box (it's been a year since I've done this). I came across my favorite poem of all time..sent to me on my birthday last year by my lovely sister, who always knows exactly what to give! It was my 26th B-day and I had just decided to come to New Zealand and was looking into tickets to come here. Now it's the eve of my 27th (a month and 10 days to go!) and I'm looking for my tickets to leave! (On hold until I see how SARS goes...)
So, without further adieu,

somewhere i've never traveled...

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens, only something in my understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

--e e cummings--

jueves, abril 10, 2003

Alejandro, my beloved Burmese kitten, a year old this month.. is dead. Drinks in memorium will commence on Saturday evening at 7:30pm in my courtyard. He was much loved. He knew every neighbor for a kilometer around- had slept with most of them, played with their grandkids, used their cat doors and ate their food.

His death was tragic. Hit by a car, he left the road and crawled up the hill of my cross the street neighbors and finally died in their hedge. He was discovered several days after the fact, with the help of concerned neighbors who joined in my search. We believe this happened on Saturday morning, 6 days ago.

Of comfort: his one year was probably the best year a cat could dream. He loved and was loved. If it's true that "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." then he had most of us beaten in one year.

If Mark gets on the ball, soon there will be a video link of Alejandro (Alex) at play.

Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.

Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche esta estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos".

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella tambien me quiso.

En las noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La bese tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo tambien la queria.
Como no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oir la noche inmensa, mas inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocio.

Que importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche esta estrellada y ella no esta conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazon la busca, y ella no esta conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos arboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuanto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oido.

De otro. Sera de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque este sea el ultimo dolor que ella me causa,
y estos sean los ultimos versos que yo le escribo.

-Pablo Neruda

(translated)
Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Tonight I can write the saddest lines
Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

Tonight I can write the saddest lines
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the verses fall to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We of that time are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searches the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and forgetting so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content it has lost her

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.