Edwin Brock | Oct 1927 – Sep 1997 | English
from Being Born and Growing Older
Son, you have two more months
to live. On the sixteenth of December
1963, if the hospital has guessed
right, you will begin to die. By
the time you are old enough
to read this, you will be dead;
this is a process called communication.
You will not see the world at first;
you will touch flesh and you will cry.
Years later you will cry because
You see too much and touch too little.
You will be hungry for love, and love
will feed you; later, you will be
hungry for love. And love, in case
you do not understand, is the
condition you will come to fear.
Son, you are the third of my children;
the other two are dead, looking for
love. When you meet them, be
gentle; be gentle also with me;
and she who held you happily for
nine months: we too are looking for love.
And love, in case you do not understand,
is the grandeur that will kill you.
Have children soon, my son: everyone
should live for those nine months.
Afterwards, die in good company;
for dying is a lonely occupation.
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08-Nov-2011 0:14 AM