Poesía

Hace poco más de 20 años, cuando era una adolescente medio pasguata, vi la película de Woody Allen "Hanna y sus hermanas". Me encantó. En esa película, el personaje de Michael Caine le regala al personaje de Barbara Hershey, el libro de un poeta que hasta entonces yo no conocía, e.e.cummings. El poema que leen en la película me gustó tanto que se me quedó grabado. A continuación lo transcribo:

[somewhere i have never travelled]

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

-e. e. cummings

Ojo: Por lo que tengo entendido, el autor lo escribió tal cual lo transcribí, paréntesis y todo.