Listen – I love you in the most absolute sense possible.
— Iris Murdoch, letter to Raymond Queneau, 1952.

Listen! Of all the senses of love, the most absolute
Is this one, where I’m young and you’re older, married,
And we drift through cities foreign to us both,
Cities still ruined, and speak French,
And stand on bridges trembling over foul water.

The most absolute sense possible of love – listen –
Is this one. A charming ex-surrealist.
Une fille ├ępatante. They climb the hills near
Innsbruck and talk about his psychoanalysis.
Irishwoman. A little bun. She loves Kierkegaard.

In the most absolute sense, listen, I love you.
Others can listen in after we’re dead and
Figure out what that means. Read all about it.
Letters journals novels memoirs.
Somewhere I say you have a very beautiful head.

I love you in the most absolute sense possible.
Are you listening? My heart, beating on a bridge
In Austria, and among all the questions in my head
This one is absolutely answered. I would do anything
For you… Come to you at any time or place…

After you die, I affect a calm farewell:
He was a natural, absolute philosopher
Some statement of the sort was expected of me.
But listen. In the most absolute sense possible,
Love pulses and pulses and pulses.

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3 Responses to “Poem”

  1. Words and Eggs Says:


  2. Margaret Soltan Says:

    Words and Eggs: Thank you!

  3. Tweets that mention University Diaries ┬╗ Poem -- Says:

    […] This post was mentioned on Twitter by Words and Eggs, Natalia Cecire. Natalia Cecire said: A valentine from Iris Murdoch to Raymond Queneau: […]

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