When the Wound Stops Hurting What Hurts Is the Scar

Again and again
When I look at this man
He hasn’t taken a drop and
He laughs as he used to
I think: it’s getting better
Spring is coming, good times are coming
The times that are gone
Have returned
Love is beginning again, soon
Things will be like they once were.

Again and again
When I’ve been chatting with him
He has eaten his supper and doesn’t go out
He is speaking to me and
Hasn’t got his hat on
I think: it will be all right
Ordinary times are over
One can talk
To a chap, he listens
Love is beginning again, soon
Things will be just like they once were.

The rain
Never falls upwards.
When the wound
Stops hurting
What hurts is
The scar

– Bertolt Brecht, from Poems Belonging to a Reader for Those who Live in Cities

I may or may not be on a Brecht kick at the moment.

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