The best friends
Your best friends
are those who keep in touch still after death.
It might appear a shameless and sarcastic statement
that the best friends are your dead friends,
but it seems in many ways to be the truth.
Should we avoid the truth then for its inconvenience?
Never. On the contrary, it must be carried forth
and brought the more out in the open
for its inconvenience the more disagreeable it is.
They are there still and with me, my best friends,
my father in his paragon of excellence and temperance,
my childhood friend, ideal in handsomeness and goodness,
terribly mistreated for his cancer by his doctors,
my goldsmith brother, driven over as a child
and made an invalid for life, who none the less
became the greatest expert on the art of living,
and my Russian friend, the greatest humorist,
always funny and refreshing in his sound superiority,
who went under like Vysotsky from intensity of self-consumption.
Although they are gone, to me they still are more alive
than probably most people that I know,
as if the fact that they went out too early
established and confirmed a friendship
more definite and stable than eternity.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2011-10-20 at 14:37
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Christian Lanciai |
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Editorial Team |
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Louis Constant |
