A Valentine


I’m generally a bit cynical about Valentines day, and not because I’m single (never celebrated it when I was married either), but because it’s contrived. Invented. Exploited. But you know, we have holidays celebrating less, perhaps it’s a good idea to have a day of reflection for Love, along Thanks, Parents, Veterans, and imperial conquerers of continents.

I read this poem earlier this week in one of my more interesting books, and thought it was appropriate for today. Enjoy, and cheers to love, wherever you find it.

So through the eyes love attains the heart:
for the eyes are the scouts of the heart,
and the eyes go reconnoitering
for what it would please the heart to possess.

And when they are in full accord and firm,
all three, in the one resolve,
at that time, perfect love is born
from what the eyes have made welcome to the heart,
not otherwise can love either be born
or have commencement
than by this birth and
commencement moved by inclination.

By the grace and by command
of these three, and from their pleasure,
Love is born,
who its fair hope
goes comforting her friends.

For as all true lovers know,
Love is perfect kindness
which is born—there is no doubt—
from the heart and eyes.

The eyes make it blossom;
the heart matures it:

Love, is the fruit of their very seed.

Guiraut De Borneilh (ca 1138-1200?)