The Future – Julio Cortazar

October 12, 2015

And I know full well you won’t be there.

You won’t be in the street, in the hum that buzzes

from the arc lamps at night, nor in the gesture

of selecting from the menu, nor in the smile

that lightens people packed into the subway,

nor in the borrowed books, nor in the see-you-tomorrow.

You won’t be in my dreams,

in my words’ first destination,

nor will you be in a telephone number

or in the color of a pair of gloves or a blouse.

I’ll get angry, love, without it being on account of you,

and I’ll buy chocolates but not for you,

I’ll stop at the corner you’ll will never come to,

and I’ll say the words that are said

and I’ll eat the things that are eaten

and I’ll dream the dreams that are dreamed

and I know full well you won’t be there,

not here inside, in the prison where I still hold you,

nor there outside, in this river of streets and bridges.

You won’t be there at all, you won’t be even a memory,

and when I think of you I’ll be thinking a thought

that’s obscurely trying to recall you.


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