I do not love you, except because I love you

That's the opening line from Pablo Neruda's Love Sonnet LXVI.


I've always loved this particular poem of his, because it speaks to the depth and complexity of love. The fire that consumes one is often romanticized, but it is not always a rosy experience. Anywho, I recorded the poem -- in the original Spanish-- for Read To Me Tuesday a couple of days ago, on my other blog, Things My Brother Says. Enjoy here.

It's a great day for America

A couple pf nights ago, Craig Ferguson delivered this wonderful monologue at the beginning of his show:




I think that last line is particularily relevant to many of us. "We are more than a country. We are a dream."

I consider myself an American, and this country is no less than a dream. It has its faults, to be sure, but I honestly believe there is no other place like this in the world. People do not flock to other countries like they do-- still, after more than two hundred years. People do not just pack up and leave their home country-- like my parents did-- for no reason. I did not choose to come to this county, unlike my parents. But I am choosing to stay and fight for my right to stay, because I think it's worth the fight. Even if, like Sisyphus, I am faced with a futile task, I will keep rolling my boulder up that mythical hill for as long as the slightest hope for success exists.