Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Happiness fled

She passed, the young girl 
Live & quick like a bird
With a shining flower in hand
With a new poem in her lips

Perhaps, she is the One, in the world
my heart would respond
who vists my darkest nights
lighting by her gaze

But no, my youth is over 
Good Bye, my soft gleaming ray
Perfume, Young girl, Harmony 
Happiness passed away, it fled! 

By Gerad de Nerval
A year ago, in April , he wrote this poem by Gerard de Nerval to her when he met her for the first time. She was so sad to read it , she cried , was sad for him, but she did not tell him.

From that moment , she decided to make him happy, give him the happiness he expected , even if he did not ask for anything. She too had a broken heart , but she did not want to appear weak, melancholic . She was more than a bird, a little lively bird. She laughed aloud, she rushed to see him everywhere, she was energetic , full of life. 

She did not expect flowers from him, instead she gave him flowers , because in the poem he loved flowers which he missed desperately . Softness, the beauty of flowers . So, she picked red poppies , white daisies , small sunflowers, all wild flowers in the fields  in the spring. She did not smell them much for the fear of killing their scents. She wanted to keep the freshness of flowers, the scent of flowers, just for him. In winter, she had nothing , not even a petal. She was afraid of the whiteness on the dry fields.

Before, she never wrote love poems. She began to write love poems crazily, just for him , daring to express her deep feelings . She was not ashamed to write , her love for him .
She was not afraid of  being criticized, being judged , being ridiculed by everyone , even by him for daring to write these follies. But, she continued her poems that did not rhyme always , free verse , like her love, without rules.

She did not try to please him with false words that seemed suitable for an elegant woman. She knew he loved the elegant women, but she wanted to stay as a girl ,  naive , innocent , pure, just like in the poem.

She just wanted to see him happy at night . She did not want him sleeping all alone , isolated in the deep darkness. She stood beside him , so close as a man, to provide warmth to assure him that he is no longer alone , he can count on her forever. She wrote him bedstories to read before sleeping.She sent them constantly, every night . She was afraid of the loneliness of the night , the loneliness who  sleeps with her everynight. 

But ,she did not want to give that feeling to him,  she always made sure to wish him Good night , even if he was far away.

Perfume, she did not know what to do with it . For his birthday, she offered him a perfume, to make him happy . He did not knowthat  it was because of the poem that she offered one. She did not know if it was a good gift for a man, but she just gave it ,  wishing his  life would be perfumed. She did not write him a card for his birthday which he celebrated with his family , without her, because she thought a little card was too small for him, she could  not write everything there, her love.She did not want that happiness is over for him or his youth. She consoled him with beautiful words , beautiful sentences to restore his youth , to find his happiness seemed to be fleeing from him.She lived a year for him, to love him, to give him the smiles while hiding her own sadness. She did not want love. Or to be loved, but love, love for nothing, hopeless love , love to love.Happiness for him, as she could give. Open his heart , listen if he wants to express . Harmony, create harmony while suffering in a volcano. She thought he was happy, she was successful. She was happy for him .

This year, this April , this spring, He scolded her not to bother him anymore !

By Jahooli Devi

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