I HAVE DREAMED OF YOU SO MUCH
I have dreamed of you so much that you are losing your
reality.
Is there time to reach your living body, to kiss the voice so
dear to me as it springs from your mouth?
I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, accustomed to
lying folded on my chest from embracing your image, would perhaps no longer bend
to the shape of your real body.
For, faced with the actual appearance of the one who haunts
me and who has ruled my days and years, I would, without a doubt, have also become
an image.
O, scales of feeling….
I have dreamed of you so much that, without a doubt, there
is no time for me to wake. I sleep
standing up, the body exposed to all the shapes of love and life—and to you,
the only one who counts for me now. I
can no more touch your forehead or your lips than those of a stranger passing
by.
I have dreamed of you so much, walked, talked, slept with
your image, that there is nothing left of me, perhaps for now and ever, but to
be an image among other images, a hundred times more shadow than the one who
walks and will continue to walk brightly across the sundial of your life.
Translated by D. LeH. Sweet
