Epitaph for an Aroma

When the dew descended yesterday,
amid future stamens and corollas,
I perished in a garden that presented
shadows in the shapes of trees, and water.
Two ribbons bound me, here they are:
longer than my petals they endured,
pale, like the ribbons of the dead.
The same implicit partnership of flowers,
the similar hands, the care,
the season and the blood of evening,
will not be able to repeat exactly
the dark tunnels of my aroma:
infinite will be in memory
the intricate paths of the perfume;
infinite, too, the deceptive
reappearance of every moment.
And though the days may want to bring them back,
and though many circumstances join together- -
repetition of phrases or of people,
the same inclination of a head- -
neither does that person anymore exist
for whom I was in secret destined.

by Silvina Ocampo

Other poems of OCAMPO (9)

Comments (5)

The game continues! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Is this perhaps some commentary on the human race? I would be interested to know the meaning behind this rather otherwise gruesome piece. Certainly arresting imagery.
The race is on so long as there are legs and arms. Very nice.
a good poem with plenty of bite? hope they don't swallow other wise it's game over.
Thanks for sharing+++++++++++++++++