Reading a poem in translation is like kissing a woman through a veil.
Anne MichaelsRead
There's a moment when love makes you believe in death for the first time. You recognize the one whose loss, even contemplated, you'll carry forever, like a sleeping child. All grief, anyone's grief...is the weight of a sleeping child.
Interpretation
Love intertwines our emotions with the reality of loss, making it profoundly impactful.
This quote reflects the transformative power of love and how it shapes our understanding of loss and grief. When we truly love someone, the thought of losing them becomes haunting, as we realize the depth of our connection and the lasting imprint they leave in our lives. The metaphor of carrying grief like a 'sleeping child' emphasizes how heavy and burdensome this sorrow can feel, yet also highlights the precious memories and love that remain.
In practice
This quote could be shared during a memorial service to express the deep connection love creates.
Reading a poem in translation is like kissing a woman through a veil.
Hold a book in your hand and you're a pilgrim at the gates of a new city.
When my parents were liberated, four years before I was born, they found that the ordinary world outside the camp had been eradicated. There was no more simple meal, no thing was less than extraordinary: a fork, a mattress, a clean shirt, a book. Not to mention such things that can make one weep: an orange, meat and vegetables, hot water. There was no ordinariness to return to, no refuge from the blinding potency of things, an apple screaming its sweet juice.
If love wants you; if you've been melted down to stars, you will love with lungs and gills; with feathers and scales; with warm blood and cold.
Long after you’ve forgotten someone’s voice, you can still remember the sound of their happiness or their sadness. You can feel it in your body.
Love makes you see a place differently, just as you hold differently an object that belongs to someone you love. If you know one landscape well, you will look at all other landscapes differently. And if you learn to love one place, sometimes you can also learn to love another.
Yes, and only if my own true love was waiting If I could hear his heart softly pounding Yes, and only if he was lying by me Would I lie in my bed once again.
Love partakes of the soul itself. it is of the same nature. like it, it is a divine spark, like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable, it is the point of fire which is within us, which is immortal and infinite, which nothing can limit and nothing can extinguish.
no form of love is wrong, so long as it is love, and you yourself honour what you are doing. Love has an extraordinary variety of forms! And that is all there is in life, it seems to me. But I grant you, if you deny the variety of love you deny love altogether. If you try to specialize love into one set of accepted feelings, you wound the very soul of love. Love must be multi-form, else it is just tyranny, just death
For love... has two faces; one white, the other black; two bodies; one smooth, the other hairy. It has two hands, two feet, two tails, two, indeed, of every member and each one is the exact opposite of the other. Yet, so strictly are they joined together
Only through loving and supporting one another, even in the face of unbearable pain and suffering, will this cycle of violence end.
The only true language in the world is a kiss.
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