Monday, February 14, 2011

On Love


All love measures the universe in its own way, attending only for its own expectations, its own discoveries. All love is modified after itself: nothing precedes it; we learn nothing from it. When it dies, there is no point remembering it. It can’t be shared with anyone, or with the rest of our lives, or with future loves. It belongs neither to the past nor the future.


from “Distant Cousin” by Federico Vegas, translated by Lisa Dillman
Bomb’s Literary Supplement, p.16, 2010

[This post appears too in Back Trails | pransisempilipinas.blogspot.com]

2 comments:

Maestro said...

howdie???

it's been a long time that I haven't visited your site. i haven't read much these days (or years to be specific).

how is she? how is he? how are YOU?

would you mind contacting a friend that wants to keep in touch with you?

hoping to hear from you SOON! thanks!

Pransism said...

We are fairly doing fine. Thank you for dropping by and checking on us. I hope we could meet up one time and share things and perhaps make a tour of some places in Manila. Will send your regards to the rest of the family. Take care.