THE SALVATION OF LOVE

Persist..
Snatch a piece of wood, save it from the flames,
From a piece of wood, save it from the flames,
From devastations, from fears.

Our name is erased, our works disappear, they are misunderstood, stifled,
But may the whistle of propagation remain without a doubt,
The religion of the permanence of something
Doubtful, ambiguous, incredible:
That which the child does when he plays, that
Which has the name of   fire and doesn't burn
Nor glow in the night. Save a sound,
Only just a warm number,
Only but an attitude whispered
Between two lights,
The pale expression of a lone gentleman,
Later buried among jasmine. Put
This flower in the buttonhole of someone sad,
Pick up the fallen man in his dream
Of love, the sombre man,
Hardly afflicted.
There is a tear in the depth of the well,
A tear large as a child,
A lament, a lasting love for someone
Long since dead. Save it for the love
Of life. Save it for the love of love's continuity.
Save it for the love
Of man.
              What is coming has to be man,
Has to be love and generating love,
And has to be a practice of love
Without hope nor reward of other love.

You are those called, those chosen
To decide if the generous deed will last,
The act of living vitally beyond life itself,
Of modestly accepting to be only but
A bridge in the road,
A gloomy bridge, ennobled
Only by love...