I´m never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear;
and whatever is done by me only me is your doing, my darling).
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)
I want no world (for, beautiful, you are my world, my true).
And it´s you are whatever a moon has always meant,
and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky and the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
And this is the wonder that´s keeping the starts apart.
I carry your heart (carry it in my heart).
E. E. Cumming.
1.958.
(Edward Estling Cumming: poet, painter, essayist and northamerican playwright)
If you want read the translation of this poem in "Spanish", clik here:
