If you find on some road
a little boy
stealing apples
and a deaf old man
with an accordion,
remember that I am
the little boy, the apples , and the aged man.
A Citizen
Each week I become restless.
I look for aluminum clouds,
tormented screws,
bars of silent nickel,
unneeded doorknockers.
Hardware stores
know about my enthusiasm...
To My Obligations
I just work and work,
I must replace
Our faulty memory,
I must fill darkness with white bread,
I must create hope anew (...)
The Turtle
the turtle came to a halt,
remained here
asleep
and is not aware of it.
She was so old
she hardened,
she forgot about the sea and its waves
and became rigid
like a flatiron
and then fell asleep,
a boulder
among other boulders.
need two wings
you a violin
sky and so many things...
the
to
rise
to
want
you
If
The Guilty One
I declare myself guilty for not having
made, with these hands that they gave me,
a broom.
Why didn't I make a broom?
Why did they give me hands?
What good did they do me
if I only saw the murmur of the grain;
if I only had ears for the wind
and I didn't recognize the thread
of a broom,
still green in the earth
All poems are courtesy of Earth Tones: The Poetry of Pablo Neruda by Manuel Duran and Margery Safir and from NERUDA: An Intimiate Biography by Volodia Teitelboim.
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