Today is Kate’s birthday! And I thought that I would share with you one of Vincent’s presents to her.
In my alternate DIE FOR ME universe, Kate wakes up this morning, looks at her phone, and sees a text message telling her to look in her bag. She pulls out a red envelope, and inside is a poem hand-copied in Vincent’s script with the inscription, “Happy birthday Kate, my own cherry tree.”
from EVERY DAY YOU PLAY
(by Pablo Neruda, from “Twenty Love Poems and a song of despair”)
Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands.
You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.
Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.
How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me.
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the grey light unwind in turning fans.
My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.