Broken Love

来加班，出了地铁，走在撒满阳光的路上，眼睛有点睁不开。记忆跳跃到你那次临走前被我拖来加班的情景，仿佛又看见你歪着头安静得坐在我身边看书的样子，似乎还能感觉到彼时心中的喜悦祥和，耳边细碎的音乐，也还是当时的曲子，听着听着，我竟然几度泫然欲泣。

到了公司，打开抽屉，不经意又看到被你涂鸦过的草稿纸，手指轻轻摩挲着你写的字，感慨丛生。当时似乎是出自本能，想也没想就扯了个谎，才让这张纸幸免被你丢弃到垃圾筒的命运，我的脸侧，在其后很久都能感觉到你狐疑目光的热度。后来，它就一直安静得躺在抽屉的角落里，想不到，至今已是两年有余。而我，竟也这样捱了过来。

想起昨天在看<The heart of Me>时听到的"Broken Love"来，原本看完后想写点什么的，突然就有点厌倦这样的主题，不外是三角、爱而不得、去而复返、一吟三叹、低回曲折，遂作罢。今日又想起William Blake写的这首诗，此时此刻，从它破碎的名字，到宽恕的主题，都让我有点唏嘘。

Broken Love - by William Blake

MY Spectre around me night and day
Like a wild beast guards my way;
My Emanation far within
Weeps incessantly for my sin.

A fathomless and boundless deep,
There we wander, there we weep;
On the hungry craving wind
My Spectre follows thee behind.

He scents thy footsteps in the snow
Wheresoever thou dost go,
Thro the wintry hail and rain.
When wilt thou return again?

Dost thou not in pride and scorn
Fill with tempests all my morn,
And with jealousies and fears
Fill my pleasant nights with tears?

Seven of my sweet loves thy knife
Has bereavd of their life.
Their marble tombs I built with tears,
And with cold and shuddering fears.

Seven more loves weep night and day
Round the tombs where my loves lay,
And seven more loves attend each night
Around my couch with torches bright.

And seven more loves in my bed
Crown with wine my mournful head,
Pitying and forgiving all
Thy transgressions great and small.

When wilt thou return and view
My loves, and them to life renew?
When wilt thou return and live?
When wilt thou pity as I forgive?

Oer my sins thou sit and moan:
Hast thou no sins of thy own?
Oer my sins thou sit and weep,
And lull thy own sins fast asleep.

What transgressions I commit
Are for thy transgressions fit.
They thy harlots, thou their slave;
And my bed becomes their grave.

Never, never, I return:
Still for victory I burn.
Living, thee alone Ill have;
And when dead Ill be thy grave.

Thro the Heaven and Earth and Hell
Thou shalt never, quell:
I will fly and thou pursue:
Night and morn the flight renew.

Poor, pale, pitiable form
That I follow in a storm;
Iron tears and groans of lead
Bind around my aching head.

Till I turn from Female love
And root up the Infernal Grove,
I shall never worthy be
To step into Eternity.

And, to end thy cruel mocks,
Annihilate thee on the rocks,
And another form create
To be subservient to my fate.

Let us agree to give up love,
And root up the Infernal Grove;
Then shall we return and see
The worlds of happy Eternity.

And throughout all Eternity
I forgive you, you forgive me.
As our dear Redeemer said:
This the Wine, and this the Bread.