Goodbyes

My time in the US is almost over, and my heart is breaking at the thought of leaving. I have many thoughts on why this is, the difficulty of moving between cultures and feeling transition. I have learned a lot this week, and been excited and touched by my time here. In many ways, it is good to be back. In others, it is crushing me.

I was in a bookstore recently and read this poem. In some ways, it expresses my longings and my tumult better than I know how to do. It is the last stanza that reminds me most of my time here. Forgive me for the long post, and for the wave of melancholy. I am filled with joy among the people I love, and sorrow when I think of leaving again. So…

Goodbye, goodbye to one place or another,
To every mouth, to every sorrow,
To the insolent morn, to weeks
Which wound in the days and disappeared,
Goodbye to this voice and that one stained
With amaranth, and goodbye
To the usual bed and plate,
To the twilit setting of all goodbyes,
To the chair that is part of the same twilight,
To the way made by my shoes.

I spread myself, no question;
I turned over whole lives,
Changed skin, lamps, and hates,
It was something I had to do,
Not by law or whim,
More of a chain reaction;
Each new journey enchained me;
I took pleasure in place, in all places.

And, newly arrived, I promptly said goodbye
With still newborn tenderness
As if the bread were to open and suddenly
Flee from the world of the table.
So I left behind all languages,
Repeated goodbyes like an old door,
Changed cinemas, reasons, and tombs,
Left everywhere for somewhere else;
I went on being, and being always
Half undone with joy,
A bridegroom among sadness,
Never knowing how or when,
Ready to return, never returning.

It’s well known that he who returns never left,
So I traced and retraced my life,
Changing clothes and planets,
Growing used to the company,
To the great whirl of exile,
To the great solitude of bells tolling.

-Pablo Neruda, from Fully Empowered, 1961-1962
Translated by Alastair Reid