"Love is a Fire that Burns Unseen," by Luís Vaz de Camões

One by Neruda

 "Leaning Into the Afternoon," by Pablo Neruda, master of the surrealist love poem--reading and video, short poem:

"Leaning into the Afternoon"

Bravissima

Her frown made me sad--

kind of like tired, pliable carrots

do. Whereas her perfume

delighted like a flower concert

played by multicolored clouds. 

When she talked, I heard

her words as vocal chords

thrummed into the present

moment. And when she 

smiled at me--at me!--

well, I wanted to applaud

in a way that voiced

desire for an encore,

for me an encore.  

hans ostrom 2020

"Loving Some is a Heavy Cross," by Boris Pasternak

A poem about how easy, in this case, it is to live with someone whom you love. From the online book, From the Ends to the Beginning: A Bilingual Anthology of Poetry, russianpoetry.net. It goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, Pasternak was the author of Doctor Zhivago, led eventually to one of my very favorite films, directed by David Lean.

link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8oaaP68i4s

"We Will Sleep Together," by Louis Aragon

A whimsical love poem, translated, by Louis Aragon; readig/video. About a minute.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ovct3m_4sZU

"On Entering the Sea," by Nizar Qabbani

40 second video/recording of a poem by the renowned Syrian poet. 

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Md7beFPm01I

Translated by Lena Jayyusi, Sharif Elmusa, Jack Collum, from On Entering the Sea: The Erotic and Other Poetry of Nizar Qabbani, Interlink Books 1996 (buy this book!). Images from public domain sources. Video clips from Pixabay, Moshe Harosh, Andre Mouton, Matvey Doomchev, and Free Footage, by permission, and thank you. Recording is mine. Qabbani: 1923-1998, a renowned Syrian poet, writer, and publisher. He was born and grew up in Damascus. Later he lived in Geneva, Paris, and London, where he died. His numerous books include The Lover's Dictionary; To Beirut the Feminine, With My Love; Poems Inciting Anger; and Alphabet of Jasmine.

"Song (We Don't Know)," by Jacques Prévert

A 25 second reading/video of the Jacques Prévert poem, translated by A.S. Kline, used by permission.

Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1M5Qn-9ny80

Off Your Coast

It looks like I'm just off your coast,
cold in a boat. A night sea's no fun.
A buoy bobs like a clown's head.
Let me into your harbor, please,

not because I imagine I love you
but because I'm cold and you
are warm. Simple as that.
Your lighthouse seems delighted

to see me. I'm turning my back
on it now and rowing. I don't
know if you'll be on the beach.
I know how I'll fee if you are.



hans ostrom 2018

She Looks Good

She looks good
in a mirror.
She looks good
in a bed.
Looks fine in
a forest,
and alluring
in my head.

She looks splendid
in the Spring,
intriguing in
the rain.
She looks smart
in a debate
and languid
in a lane.

There's an essence
in her presence,
which distracts
and then attracts.
To be drawn
to her is
to travel
past mere facts.


hans ostrom 2017

"The Constant Lover," Sir John Suckling

"During Music," by Hans Ostrom

"How Many Times Do I Love Thee?" by Thomas Lovell Beddoes

"Venus Transiens," by Amy Lowell

"Brown Penny," by William Butler Yeats

St. Valentine's Day Poem

Re-posting one from 2008:

Yes, I Do

I take full responsibility for
what I’m about to write, which is
that when she eats chocolate, some
ends up in a corner of her mouth.
She reprimands cinematic villains,
speaking directly to the TV screen.
I take full responsibility for the
fact that this is turning into a
love poem. She runs a business
in a sector of the global economy
known as “not-for-profit.” She
appreciates eccentricity. Has
long, melodramatic nightmares,
from which she wakes refreshed.
She eats the whole apple, core
and all. It’s my fault that I see
these qualities and details from
the vantage-point commonly
called love, and that I’ve already
used the word “love” twice, now
three times. I hold myself
accountable. She sings on pitch.
Likes swing, rock-and-roll, Sinatra,
Domingo, soul, rockabilly reverb,
and the cello. It was my error
to begin with the detail about
chocolate in the corner of her mouth.
To the degree this is a love poem,
and getting rather domestic, at that,
I’m to blame. She’s unabashedly
happy when a hot dinner’s waiting
for her after she’s been driving
in the rain. I do love her. I take
full responsibility. I do.

Hans Ostrom

from The Coast Starlight: Collected Poems 1976-2006, by Hans Ostrom

Sonnet 97, by William Shakespeare

"it is so long since my heart has been with yours," by e.e. cummings

"She Tells Her Love While Half Asleep," by Robert Graves

"No Platonic Love," by William Cartwright

"Go By Brooks," by Leonard Cohen