| POETRY And it was that age, Poetry arrived in search of me I don't know...I don't know where it came from From winter? Or river? I don't know how or when... No, there were not voices There were no words nor silence But from a street I was summoned From the branches of night- abruptly from the otehrs Among violent fires, or returning alone there I was without a face, And it touched me. I did not know what to say My mouth had no way with names My eyes were blind and something started in my soul Fever? or forgotten wings? And I made my own way, Deciphering that fire And I wrote the first faint line -faint- without substance Pure nonesense, pure wisdom of someone who knows nothing And suddenly, I saw the heavens unfastened! and open planets! palpitating plantations! shadow perforated..... riddled with fire and arrows The winding night, the universe And I, infinitesmal being- drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, felt myself a pure part of the abyss. I wheeled with the stars! My heart roke loose on the wind. -pablo neruda |
| more of neruda's poetry |
| selected poems |