YOU CANNOT LOVE HER, BUT I CAN

 

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She came from the feminine sea,

Like creation emerging from creation,

To be loved by an affectionate and useful man,

Who, when most useful, pleases her with musical poetry,

Chiming with love that unites a broken nation.

You cannot love her, but I can.

 

He made books and locks, the rain against the sea;

I need them, like food—each evening of each day,

Because I hide in a house made by wandering man,

Unable to find pleasure on what I lie on; you see

The mountains that ring, like clouds, this rainy valley?

You cannot love her, but I can.

 

She is all that a woman intends to be

When birds arrive at the back of the day

To holler at you, a masculine, philosophical  man,

Who strives each day to write poetry

That can make itself into something anyone can say.

You cannot love her, but I can.

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3 Comments

  1. December 18, 2015 at 9:49 pm

    In French and Anglo-Norman, and all the neo-Latin tongues, the custom of the Latin and Greek languages are retained, so that the moon is feminine, and the sun masculine. As people began to take their notions of grammar from the Latin language, English writers adopted the same genders for the names of the two luminaries as in Latin and Anglo-Norman.
    I prefer the custom of the Teutonic languages, where the moon is masculine and the sun feminine. Taking the sun as being feminine, I take fire as being feminine. And taking the moon as being masculine, I take water and the sea as being masculine.

  2. thomasbrady said,

    December 19, 2015 at 4:29 am

    Duncan, thanks. I think of feminine as signifying birth, and life originated in the sea and, in the womb, we rest in liquid; also darkness and protection attend the birth process, not the brightness of the sun. But you are indeed correct: it is Die Sonne. Feminine.
    Tom

  3. Andrew said,

    December 19, 2015 at 8:08 pm

    Duncan – you just might be linguistically/elementally mental,

    (in a good and poetic way)


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