You Knew, Didn’t You?


“It is real,” you said to me,

But I afraid of reality

Insisted, “It is fantasy.”

 

How could I know?

Why didn’t I understand?

The dream in its dreaming

Is as strong as the dreamer;

The fantasy in its spinning,

As real as the spinner.

But you knew, didn’t you?

 

Those moments we shared,

Our passions and our quarrels

Our meetings and our parting—

As perfect links in the chains

of  infinity persist.

You knew, didn’t you?

 

Always sifting through starry paths,

Exploring the remains of time,

An immortal mind perhaps,

Ponders with jealousy

At the perfection of our fantasy.

You knew, didn’t you?

 

“Love is real,” you said to me,

But I afraid of reality

Insisted, “It is fantasy.”

—Carole Fragoza Díaz

San Juan, Puerto Rico 1982

 

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