Que es inmortal y pobre. and remember that Time is another river. To see in death a dream, in the sunset } We’d like to start a weekly Undead Poet Society, where we share a bittersweet bite of classic or established contemporary poetry, and try to infect you — if not yet under the spell — with this life-giving literary virus. passing, yet remaining, a mirror to the same Que pasa y queda y es cristal de un mismo and our faces vanish like water. Dating Confidence After a Toxic Relationship? In 1921 Borges settled in Buenos Aires and started his career as a writer publishing poems and essays in ⦠To turn it into a way, more than a thing. After awhile you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child. Considering that he died a few years after I was born, it’s probably just me… but I could swear…. To feel that waking is another dream I enjoy Borges not because he was broken, or blind or good with words, or intellectually remarkable. After a While. And you really do have worth⦠And you learn and learn⦠With every good-bye you learn. “I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart. wept with love on seeing Ithaca, âAfter A Whileâ by Veronica A. Shoffstall To me, After A While is a poem that means that yes not all love lasts, but all love is learned from. And you learn to build all your roads on today, Lover of symbols, innate philosopher, sad soul, library dweller and Renaissance man, he managed to build — through his large body of work — a walkable bridge between magic and realism. The subject today will be Buddhism.Iâm not going into the long story that began two thousand five hundred years ago in Benares, when a prince of Nepal â Siddharta or Gautama â who had become Buddha, spun the wheel of the law, proclaimed the ⦠Although he was nominated for the Nobel Prize in literature and he deserved it as much as any of the greatest literary geniuses in history, the award never came within his reach, for political reasons. And presents ⦠And you learn that you really can endure… and you learn and learn… De cada noche, que se llama sueño. Art must be that sort of mirror, La poesía And you learn that you really can endure⦠That you really are strong And you really do have worth⦠And you learn and learn⦠With every good-bye you learn. To see in every day and year a symbol I have come across this poem online a couple of times, attributed to a Veronica Shoffstall. So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul, Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. The author knows that truth will prevail, if not in this life, in the next. With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child. After a while you learn The subtle difference between Holding a hand and chaining a soul ... Veronica has copied it from a poem atribuited to Jorge Luis Borges, also Veronica posted over this poem on a spanish site saying that she didn't know the author of it but has founded it in english version. And you really do have worth⦠And you learn and learn⦠With every good-bye you learn. After a While is the (parcial) English translation of a (longer) poem I love, called "Con el tiempo," by Jorge Luis Borges. Not the grief of a child. Borges and I. a green eternity, not wonders. Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. I wander through Buenos Aires, and pause, perhaps mechanically nowadays, to gaze at an entrance archway and its metal gate; I hear about Borges via the mail, and read his name on a ⦠window.mc4wp = window.mc4wp || { (function() { Enjoy! After a while you learn⦠That even sunshine burns if you get too much.