Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Russian Photographs


And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
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,
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
and open,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
likeness, image of
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

Pablo Neruda


willow said...

I love that.

Bonnie'n'Clyde said...

Pablo Neruda is one of my all-time favorite writers.

Now, where did you get THAT beautiful photo?? Please share, I love that image! Who took it?

Yoli said...

Click on the link under the photograph, it will lead you to where I found it.

steviewren said...

Both the poem and the poetry are magical.

I followed you over here from Willow's site...anyone who is cheered up by Fiddler On The Roof is my peep!

Nyla said...

oh, pablo, how i love him.

OH MY #6 said...

just beautiful!


PS. Thanx for the tip on the Gap home. I am loving it all!


Anonymous said...

oh my goodness this poem takes my breath away! i come to your blog to see what you have posted and i end up going backwards in time. i see something and it draws me onward. i can't just look and leave. i have to explore!