Neruda, Pablo - Twenty Love Poems & a Song of Despair (Penguin, 2004)

7/29/2019 Neruda, Pablo - Twenty Love Poems & a Song of Despair (Penguin, 2004)

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PENGUIN CLASSICS @D ELU X E EDITIONTWENTY LOVE POEMS AND ASONGOF DESPAIR

PABLO NERUDA (1904-1972) was born in Parral, Chile . Hegrew up in the p ioneer town of Tem uco where he metG abrie la M istral. In 1920hewenttoSantiago tostudyandbegan to publish his poetry. In 1924 thehugely successfulVeinte poemas de amoryuna canci6n desesperada appeared . From 1927 to 1943 N eruda lived abroad , serving as a d ip lom atin Rangoon, C o lom bo , Batavia, S ingapore, Buenos Aires,Barcelona, M adrid , Paris, andM exico City. He joined theCom m unis t Party ofChileafterWorldWarII, andafterbeingprosecutedfor subversion, hebegana life in exile. A lready themostrenownedLatinAm erican poet o f his tim e, he re-tu rned toC hile in 1952.Inaccep ting the NobelPrizein1971,hesaidthatthepoet m ustachievea balance "betweensolitudeandsolidarity,betweenfeelingandaction ,betweenin tim acy o f one's self, the in tim acyofm ankind , andtherevela tion ofnature."


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~ P a b l o Neruda ~

PENGUIN BooKs


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PENGUIN BOOKSPublishedbythe Penguin G roup

Penguin Group (U SA) Inc., 37 5 H ud son Str eet, New York,NewYork 10014, U.S.A.Penguin Boo ksLtd, 80S tr and, LondonWC2RORL, Engla nd

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PenguinBooks Ltd , Regis te red Offices:80 Str and, LondonWC2RoRL, England

Vefnte poemas deamoryuna cannondesesperada first publis hed mChile 1924 T h ts tra nsla twn first pubhshed inG reat BritainbyJonath an C ape Ltd 1969Ft rst publish ed in the UnitedSta tes ofA m enca by Grossman Publisher s 1969

Published in Pen guin Books 1976This ed it ion withan intr oductio nand notes by C ris tin a Garcia publis hed in Pen guin Books 2004

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English languag e tra nsla tio ncopyrigh t W S. M erw in , 1969Intr oductio n and note s copyrig h t CristinaGarda, 2004

Artw orkbyPabloPicasso2003 Estate o f Pablo Picasso/Artis ts Rights Society(ARS), N ew YorkAll nghtsre served

ISBNo 14 24.3770oCIPdata av ailable

Prin ted in the UnitedState so f AmericaS e t in Weiss w ith Past onchi Swash C apsand Sackers H eavy

D esigned by Sabrina Bowers

Except mtheU nited Sta tes o f America, this b ook is sold subject to thecondtt io nth a t It shall not, by wayof tra deoroth erwise , be lent, resold , h ired out, orotherwise circulate dw ith out the publisher's prio r con-sen tmanyfo rm of b ind in gor coverotherthan thatin which i t is publi shed and w itho ut a simtlar condi-tio n inclu din g this condit ion be ing im posedon the subsequent purchas er.

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ContentsIntroduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .viiI. Bodyof aWoman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II. The Light Wraps You . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5III. AhVastness of Pines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .9IV. TheMorning IsFull . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1V. So that YouWillHearMe . . . . . . . . . . 15VI. I RememberYouAsYouWere . . . . . . . 21VII. Leaning into the Afternoons . . . . . . . . 23 VIII. WhiteBee . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 7 IX. DrunkwithPines . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 3 X. WeHave LostEven . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 5 XI. Almost outoftheSky . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39 XII. Your BreastIs Enough . . . . . . . . . . . . 43 XIII. IHave GoneMarking . . . . . . . . . . . 4 7 XIV. Every DayYouPlay . . . . . . . . . . . 5 3 XV. ILikefor You toBeStill . . . . . . . . . . 57 XVI. InMySkyat Twilight . . . . . . . . . . .61XVII. Thinking, Tangling Shadows . . . . . 65 XVIII. Here ILoveYou . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71XIX. GirlLitheandTawny . . . . . . . . . . . 75XX. TonightI CanWrite . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77 The SongofDespair . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 3 SelectedBibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 91 SuggestionsforFurtherReading . . . . . . . . . 93


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Introduction

Bodyof awoman, whitehills,white thighsYou look likeaworld, lying in surrender.Myrough peasant'sbodydigs inyouandmakes the son leap from thedepth ofthe earth.

(From "BodyofaWoman")

From the opening lines o f th is stunningcollection by thetw en ty -year-o ld Pablo Neruda , it is immed ia te ly obviousthatwe're in thehandsofa nascen t master, of someonewhocanlead us, confidently , lyrically, from darkness into thesweetrealm of the senses. That th is poem , "Body of a W oman ," alongwithtwentyothers , waspublishedin 1924-whentheworldwas sti ll recovering from the ravagesofthe first t ru ly g lobalwar-is all themore remarkable. Thatthiscollectionwas instantly, rap turously received signa led thatthepublic,afterbeing1'a lone in thelonelinessofth is hour ofthedead,"washungryfor amorepersonal,morein t im ate art, thattheyyearnedfor an endorsement ofthe individual andhis struggles, loves, andlosses. In PabloNeruda,theyfound the ir poet.

Nerudaarrived a t theage o fsix teen to thecap ita lcityofSan tiago to studyFrench litera tu re after a childhoodspentlargely inTemuco, a dense ly fo rested reg ion in thesouthofChile ,with his ra ilroadworker fa ther andhis lov ing s tep-

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mother (Neruda's mother died of tuberculosis when he wasan infant). He'dread w idely and indiscrim inate ly as a boy :theadventurous tales o f Jules Verne, thesen tim enta l novelsof V icto r H ugo , thepira te stories ofEm ilio Salgari, the ex-perim en ta tions of theF rench sym bolis t poets . As a teenager,he'd triedhis hand at translat ing Baudelaire andtack led DonQuixote.

N eruda's family, especia lly his father, was opposed tohisw r iting poem s, p re ferr ing that he concentrate onmore prac-tical pursuits. In fact, he changed his given nam e, R icardoE liecer N eftalf Reyes, to Pablo Neruda(after the Czechhis-torical novelist JanN eruda) in par t toavo id his father's dis-approval. But the young Neruda could not be dissuadedfrom, as he put it, J/hunting poem s." In a la te r poem in Isla Negra, hedescribed the m agical natural worldof his ch ildh ood :

Rapture of the rivers,banks of thicket and fragrance,sudden boulders, burnt-out trees,and land, ampleand lonely . . .

What em erged in Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair,N eruda 's secondco llect ion , is thevoice of apoet whotrustshis senses, his curiosity, andhis d irec t and openexperienceof life. These are not abstrac t poem s a im ed at idealiz ingbeautyor love, but the messy, scented percep t ions of lived loves-and lusts. Neruda neededto look no further thanhis

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own worldfor inspiration. H is poemsare populated not bydis tan t Greek goddesses but by the lovely, earthy Chileanwomen whoenraptured him andthe so l i tude that f req uent lyengulfed him .

His w o rk is moreintuit ivethan in tellectua land his imagesare firmly rooted in the severe beauty of his nat ive soil. Heconnects the erotic with te lluric forces andthe o rg an ic cy cles of nature. A lover becomes an "earth-shell, in whomtheearthsings." Themornings tar burns, "kissing our eyes." E ven loss is a p ro tagon is t , goading life toits fullest expression. Forall their formal beauty, thereis an im provised , impulsive feeltothesep o ems, as if they wer e written in thedank af te rma th of passion. Tran sfo r med bym em ory, regrets , and ab ove a ll,byhis exquisite sensibility, Neruda w rites from the nuancedpoints of view of his tongueand his fingertips, his nostrils/his eyes, his ears.

My words rained over you, strokingyou.A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of

yourbody.I go so far as to think that you own theuniverse.I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains,

bluebells,dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.I wantto do with you what spring does with thecherry trees.

(from "Every D ay You Play")~ I X ~


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Neruda trusts and ce lebra te his senses and inextricablylinks his experiences, quite specifically, to the natural worldheloves: tothe damp forests o f southern C hilei to the thick,gn ar led roo ts of the pines deeply penetrating the earth i tothe lone ly rains that occluded the sun andcas t the worldthrough its fine veilsi to the roi l ing rivers and seas thatbrought renew al andhope and , somet im es, des truc t ion. ForN eruda, th is tightlyw oven webof nature sym bol ism becam ea g r id throughwhich he couldbegin to make sense o f hislife, to explo re both the spiritual and physical w orlds. Forh im , it w as all one co n t inuous geography .

Butyou, cloudless girl, question ofsmoke, corn tassel.You were what the wind was making with illuminated

/,eaves.Behind the nocturnal mountains, white lily ofconflagration,ah, I can say nothing!You were made of everything.

(from "Almost out of the Sky")It is th is co mb i n a tio n of thesensory and thenatural, the

subject ive and the eternal, theinstinctual andthe commonlytranscendent (cou p led with a fierce an ti-intellectualism ) thatdistinguishes Neruda's poetry from that of his contempo-raries. Hefinds the g l o ~ i o u s in theordinary, transfo rming it,s im ply andforcefully, with his lyric genius. His preoccupationwith recurring personal symbo ls is already in ev idence


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in Twenty Love Songs and a Song of Despair: cherries and stars,rivers and roots and trains. They will forever suffuse his poetic landscape. 111n the house of poetry," Neruda once declared, 11nothing remains except that which was written withblood to be listened to by blood."

In Neruda's native Chile, the post-war period was markedby growing political ferment as the old, laissez-faire policyof the Parliamentary Republic (1891-1925) slowly gaveway to a new constitution that not only helped erode thepower of the Catholic Church but also spurred a wave ofsocial reforms that guaranteed civil rights and social justiceand established democratic-like precedents. Chileans wereready for change. They wanted their voices to be hearddirectly, not interpreted by others distant to their experiences. Neruda's poems spoke to this public desperate foracknowledgment.

Traditionally, many Chileans of the elite and uppermiddle classes viewed themselves as European in outlook andturned to Europe, particularly France, as a guide to culturalinnovation. A homegrown talent such as Neruda stirred theirnational pride. He spoke to them of their mountains andtrees, of their rivers and nocturnal flowers, of their dreamsand 11the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all timetables." Neruda held up a mirror in which Chileans couldview themselves and be pleased. Reading Neruda, they could


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feel a common identity beyond their separate lives, land-marks, and scents they could call their own. After the publi-cation of Twenty Love Poems and a Song ofDespair, Neruda grewfamous well beyond his circle of bohemian friends in Santi-ago and the Chilean government rewarded him with the firstof his many diplomatic postings.

Two literary figures preceded Neruda in Chile: GabrielaMistral and Vicente Huidobro. Mistral, who knew Neruda asa schoolboy, wrote her first book of love poems in 1914, acollection that apparently had its origins in a romance with arailway employee who committed suicide. Her other earlycollections, which emphasized the intensity of human emotion, included Deso1aci6n (1922) and Ternura (1924) and areconsidered to be more hermetically personal than Neruda'spoetry. Huidobro, on the other hand, was much more concerned with matters of the literary avant-garde and sought touse modern French techniques in his poetry. While admired,Huidobro's work didn't inspire in Chileans the love and closeidentification that Neruda's poems did.

In the world beyond Chile, post-war disillusionment andcynicism colored the collective outlook of a generation ofyoung Europeans and Americans, one in which moral expec-tations were dramatically changed and the allegiances to ex-isting social structures (government, church, moral leaders)were compromised, if not discarded. This tendency towardalienation and social dislocation was amplified by artists whopronounced the death of a discredited culture and sought

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fresh directions in various movements and philosophies.No more the "sleek self-satisfaction: solid, comfortable, yetdecked with a faintly ironic, knowing mock-tudoring," asone critic described the Edwardian architecture of the pre-World War I years.

Though Victorian England and Europe had been characterized by optimism, security, and self-assuredness, within afew years Freud (who argued for the unconscious), Einstein(who in 1904 argued for relativity), and Heisenberg (whoargued for uncertainty in 1927) unseated the categoricalassumptions of the nineteenth century as delivered by Darwin's theory of evolution, Pasteur's discovery of germs, theworldwide elimination of slavery, the absence of majorglobal conflicts for several decades, and the stranglehold ofreligious authority. Adding further to the sense of a generalbreaking down of formal structures was the advent of massculture during the 1920s through the "talkies" and the introduction of radio and records.

Several artistic and literary movements emerged that reflected the social and philosophical crises of the times: cubism,futurism, Dadaism, ultraism, creationism, modernism, and, inthe same year that Neruda published Twenty Love Poems and aSong ofDespair, the explosion of surrealism. In one way or another, these movements were all assaults on the status quo, onrealism and the constructions of national literatures, on thecontention that art could be ideal and universal, that it couldspeak to all peoples in a unified, necessarily Western, voice.

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Of these various movements, the most influential andlong-standing was modernism (although in the Spanish language, modernismo is generally acknowledged to have begunwith the publication of Ruben Darfo's Azul in 1888 and endedwith the Nicaraguan poet's death in 1916). Modernism flourished as it hailed the fragmentation of daily life and theemphasis on the individual's (usually disaffected) experience.As once-coherent social institutions crumbled into insignificance, what was left to relay but individual experience?

Neruda aligned himself most closely with other LatinAmerican writers of his t ime-to the Mexican poet RamonLopez Velarde (La sangre devota, 1916) and the Peruvian poetCesar Vallejo (Los heraldos negros, 1918)-who were embracing a radical departure from their literary inheritances to anas-yet uncharted world borne distinctly in and of the Americas. Years later, Neruda wrote of wanting to create a poetry"corroded as if by an acid, by the toil of the hand, impregnated with sweat and smoke, smelling of urine and lilies."

He reminded readers that even if they'd been to hell andback, they could still fall in love, experience beauty and rapture, nurse their indignities and personal tragedies, and stillappreciate that "the best poet is the man who delivers ourdaily bread." Neruda poignantly rendered the world of thecommon man and connected him, through the redolentdetails of his natural world, to forces larger than himself,forces untainted by human crassness and ambition. His poetry

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challenged reade rs to less s ta t ic lives, lives susceptible totransformation,likenature itself.

Mylifegrows tired, hungryto no purpose.I love what I do not have. You are so far.Myloathing wrestles with the slow twilights.But nightcomes and starts to sing to me.Themoon turns its clockworkdream.The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.Andas Ilove you, the pines in the windwantto sing your name with their leaves of wire.

(from "H ere I LoveYou")

N eruda 's l i tera ry contemporaries in E ng lish weretryingtomake sense oftheworldin theirownw ays. T. S. E lio t pro-ducedThe Wasteland in 1922 , andpoets such as Hart Crane,Marianne Moore, HildaDoolittle, E zra Pound, W ill iam Car-los W illiam s, and W allace S tevens all began their art is tic as-cen ts . Writers from other cu ltu ra l traditions and l i tera rygenreswereexploringthenotionsof unstable andinde f in ite ident i t ies , and that of the individual's attempt to grapplewiththe suddencom plexi t ie s ofa new worldorder. Amongthemwere Luigi P irandello , Jam es Joyce, Fernando P essoa,Miguel de Unamuno, F ranz K afka, Marcel P roust, V irgin iaWoolf, andJunichiro T anizak i.


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In short , th e period follow ing the end of World WarI wasnot just marked by theconclus ion o f thew ar to end all wars,but also by a profound shift in the logistics o f the w orld ,from thecollapse o f theold system of European c iv ilizatio n(ove r six hundred years of the Aus t ro - H u n g aria n E mpire) totheshaky alliancesthatemergedafter the war, from a TsaristRussia to a Bolshevik one , from an isolat ion ist Am erica to are lat ively m ore inte rnat iona lis t one. In 1924 ,Gandhi fastedfor inde pendence , Stalin su cceeded Lenin, andAndre Bretonwrotethe first surrealis t manifesto. When the grea t Span ishpoet Federico Garda Lorca introduced Neruda to his con-tempora r ies in Madrid a few years later, he descr ibed theChilean as "a poet c loser to death thanto phi losophy, a poetc loser to pain than to intellect , closer to blood thantoink."

It w ou ld seem incom plete and s o m ew ha t d ishones t o f m eto discuss Twenty Love Poems and aSong of Despair without com mentingon the very personal im p a c t th i s work has had onmy life and th e lives of so m a n y o f myfriends. This vo lumewas on e of th e first toopen m y eyes and sensibility to theposs ibili ty o f poetry. I first read it in my late tw en ties (alongside Federico Garda Lorcaand W allace Stevens) when I wasstill a journal is tand tryingto figure out thenature o f my discontent. Notonly didthese poems d e e p ly resonate w i th me,but theygalvanized me, finally, in to start in g to wri te myself.They s ti r red me body and soul.

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With their gorgeous sw eep and intim acy, their sensuali ty and rhapsody, and their Jlsecret reve la tions of nature,"Neruda's poemsalso madem ewantto reclaim Spanish , thelanguage ofmychildhood, after a long , sad silence. Itis notan exaggera tion tosay that they helped metodiscoverwhoI was and what I was meanttodo. HowIsangthesepoemsaloud, again and again, in Spanish and in English , for thepure joyof hearing them onmytongue ,forthe im agery theyconjured upandthelong ings theyroused.

The morning is full of stormin theheart of summer.The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs ofgood-bye,thewind, traveling, waving them in its hands.The numberless heart of the windbeatingabove our loving silence.Orchestral anddivine, resounding among the treeslike alanguagefull ofwars and songs.

(from JITheM orning IsFull")

These poems have beenmycompanions when I've fallenm adly, adolescently , inlove-howoftenhave Ireadthemtolovers, who, too, fell under theirspell?-and in the b it te rsw ee t throes ofbreak-up anguish . Like somuchofN eruda 's

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other work, these poems are meant to be spoken, sharedwith others. Each time I return to them, they give me something new, revitalize my perspective, and refresh and restoremy senses and my sometimes-weary heart.Whether whispering or shouting them exultantly, the poems in Twenty Love Poems and a Song ofDespair encourage me tolook closely at my own world for its small miracles and thepersistence of love. They speak to me from the heart, as if forthe very first time. They remind me that renewal and changeare possible, cycling through life like so many seasons, inevitable and surprising at once. They do something that onlygreat art or faith or children, if we're lucky, do with any consistency: they offer hope.

Oh to follow the road that leads away from everything,without anguish, death, winter waiting along itwith their eyes open through the dew.

(from 11Almost out of the Sky")-Cristina Garda

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(uerpo de mujerCuerpo de mujer, blancas colinas, muslos blancos,te pareces al mundo en tu actitud de entrega.Mi cuerpo de labriego salvaje te socavay hace saltar el hijo del fondo de la tierra.Fui solo como un tunel. De m( bulan los pajaros,y en m( la noche entraba su invasion poderosa.Para sobrevivirme te forje como un arma,como una flecha en mi arco, como una piedra en mi honda.Pero cae la bora de la venganza, y te amo.Cuerpo de piel, de musgo, de leche dvida y firme.Ah los vasos del pecho! Ah los ojos de ausencia!Ah las rosas del pubis! Ah tu voz lenta y triste!Cuerpo de mujer m(a, persistire en tu gracia.Mi sed, mi ansia, sin limite, mi camino indeciso!Oscuros cauces donde la sed eterna sigue,y la fatiga sigue, y el dolor infinito.


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'Bodyofa WomanBody of a w om an, white hills, w h ite th ighs,you look like a world, ly ing in surrender.My rough peasant's body digs in youand m akes theson leap from the depthof theearth .I was alone like a tunnel. The birds fled from m e,andnight swampedm e w ith its cru sh ing invasion.To survive m yself I fo rged youlike a w eapon ,like anarrow in my bow, a stonein my sling.

But thehour of vengeance falls, andI love you.Body of skin, of moss, o f eagerandfirm milk.Oh the goble ts of the breast! Ohthe eyes o f absence!Oh the roses of thepubis!Oh your voice, slow and sad!Body of myw om an, I will persist inyour grace.My thirst, my boundless desire,my sh ifting road!Darkriver-beds w here theeternal th irs t flowsandweariness fo llows, and theinfinite ache.


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~ I I ~ en su llamamorta l

En su llama mortalla luz te envuelve.Absorta, pdlida doliente, as( situadacontra las viejas heiices del crepusculoque en tornoati da vueltas.Muda, mi amiga,sola en lo solitario de esta bora de muertesy llena de las vidas del fuego,pura heredera del dla destruido.Del sol cae un racimo en tu vestido oscuro.De la noche las grandes ra(cescrecen de subito desde tu alma,y alo exterior regresan las casas en ti ocultas,de modo que un pueblo pdlidoy azulde ti reciin nacido se alimenta.Ohgrandiosa yfecunda y magnitica esclavadel c(rculo que en negro y dorado sucede:erguida, trata y logra una creaci6n tan vivaque sucumben sus flores, y llena es de tristeza.


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r r = - - - 1 1 ~

The [j_ght Wraps 'YouThel igh t w raps you in its m ortal flame.A bstrac ted pale m ourner, standing that wayagainst the oldpropellers of thetw ilightthat revolvesaround you.

Speechless, my friend,a lone in theloneliness o f this hourof the deadand filledwiththelives of fire,pure heir of the ru ined day.

Abough of fruit falls from the sun on y o u ~ dark garm ent.The great roo ts ofnightgrow sudden ly from yoursoul,and theth ings that hide inyoucome out againso that a b lue and pallid people,your new ly bo rn , takes nourishm ent.

Ohm agnificentand fecund and m agnetic slaveof thecirclethat m oves in tu rn throughblack and gold:rise, lead and possess a creation so rich in life thatits flowers perish and it is full of sadness.


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~ I I I ~ ;Jlh vastedaddepinos

Ahvastedad de pinos, rumor de alas quebrandose,lentojuego de luces, campana solitaria,crepusculo cayendo en tus ojos, muneca,caracola terrestre, en ti la tierra canta!En ti los r(os cantanymialma en ellos huyecomo tu lo desees y bacia donde tu quieras.Marcamemicamino en tu areo de esperanzay soltareen deliria mibandada defleehas.En tornoam(estoyviendo tu cintura de nieblay tu silencioacosamis horas perseguidas,y eres tu con tus brazos de piedra transparentedondemis besos anclanymihumeda ansia anida.

Ah tu vozmisteriosa queel amortineydoblaen el atardecerresonanteymuriendo!As(en horas profundas sabre los campos he vistadoblarse las espigas en Ia boca del viento.


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~ I I I ~ cAh 'Vastness oJP ines

Ahvastnessof pines, murmur of waves b reak ing ,s low play of ligh ts, so litary bell,tw ilig h t falling in youreyes, toy doll,earth -she ll, in whom the earth sings!

In you the rivers s ing andmy soul flees in themas youdesire , and you sendi t w h ere you will.A im myroadonyour bowof hopeandin a fren zy I will free myflock ofarrow s.

Onall sides I see your w aist of fog,and your silence huntsdown my afflic ted hours ;my kisses anchor,and my m o is t desire nestsin you with your arm sof transparent s tone .

A h your m ysterious vo ice that love tollsanddarkens in the resonant and dyingevening!Thusin deep hours I have seen , over the fields,the ears ofwheat to ll ing in themouth ofthew ind .


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~ I V ~ es La manana!lena

Es lamanana llena de tempestaden el coraz6n delverano.Como paiiuelos blancos de adiosviajan lasnubes,elviento las sacudecon susviajerasmanos.

Innumerablecoraz6ndel vientolatiendo sabre nuestro silencio enamorado.Zumbando entre las arboles, orquestaly divino,como una lengua llena deguerras y de cantos.

Viento que lleva en rdpido robo la hojarascay desv(a lasflechas latientes de los pdjaros.

Viento que la derriba en ala sin espumay sustancia sin peso, yfuegos inclinados.

Se rompey se sumerge suvolumen de besoscombatido en la puerta del viento del verano.

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TheJl4orningIsfullThemorning is full o f sto rm in theheart o f summer.Thecloudstravel likewhitehandkerchiefs ofgood-bye,the wind, traveling, waving themin its hands.

Thenumberlesshearto f thewindbeatingaboveourlov ing silence.O rches tra l anddivine, resound ing amongthetreeslike a language full o f warsandsongs.

Windthatbearsoffthedead leavesw ith aquick ra id anddeflects the pulsing arrowsof thebirds.Windthattopp les herin awavewithout sp ray andsubstance withoutweigh t,andlean ing fires.Hermasso f kissesbreaksandsinks,assailed in thedooro f thesummer's w ind.

r-r==- 11 ~


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Para que tumeoigas

Para que tumeoigasmis palabrasseadelgazanavecescomo las huellas de lasgaviotas en las playas.

Collar, cascabel ebrioparatusmanos suaves como las uvas.

Y lasmira lejanasmis palabras.Mas quem(as son tuyas.Van trepando enmi viejodolorcomo lasyedras.

Elias trepanas(por las paredes humedas.Eres tu Ia culpablede estejuego sangriento.Elias estanhuyendodemi guarida oscura.Todo lo llenas tu, todo lo 11enas.

Antesque tu poblaron Ia soledadqueocupas,y estan acostumbradasmas que tuami tristeza.

Aharaquiero quedigan lo que quiero decirteparaque tumeoigas como quiero queme oigas.


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5o that 'YouWill !-fear c.7kfeSo thatyou willhear memyw o rd ssom etim es grow thinas thetracks ofthe gullsonthebeaches .

N eck lace ,drunkenbellforyour hands smooth as grapes.And I watch my w o rd s from a longwayoff.Theyare moreyours than m ine.They cl im b onmyoldsuffering like ivy.

It c lim bsthesam e wayondampwalls.You are to blame for th is cruel sport.Theyare fleeing from mydark lair.You fill ev ery th in g , you fill ev ery th in g . Beforeyou theypeopledtheso li tude that youoccupy,andtheyaremore used tomysadnessthanyou are.NowI want them to saywhatI wantto say toyouto m akeyouhearas Iwant you tohear me.


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Elviento de la angustiaaun las suelearrastrar.Huracanes de suefiosaunaveces las tumban.Escuchas otrasvoces en mivozdolorida.Llanto de vieJas bocas, sangrede vieJas suplicas.Amame, compafiera. Nomeabandones. Slgueme.Slgueme, compafiera, en esa ola de angustia.Pero sevan tifiendo con tuamormis palabras.Todo lo ocupas tu, todo lo ocupas.Voy hacienda de todas uncollar infinitopara tus blancas manos, suaves como lasuvas.


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Thewind of anguish still hauls onthem as usual.S om etimes hurr icanes o f dream s still knock themover.You listen toother voices inmy painful voice .

L amen t of old m o u ths , blood of old supplica t ions .Love m e, companion. Don't forsake me. Follow m e.Follow m e, companion, onthis w ave of anguish.

But myw ords become stained with yourlove." Yo u occupy every th ing , youoccupy ev e ry th in g .

I am making theminto an endless necklacefor your white hands , smooth as grapes .


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Te recuerdo como erasTe recuerdo comoeras en el ultimootofio.Eras la boinagrisy el coraz6n en calma.En tusojos peleaban las llamas del crepusculo.Ylas hojas ca(anen elagua de tualma.Apegadaamis brazoscomouna enredadera,las hojas recog(an tuvoz lentayen calma.Hoguera de estuporenquemi sedard(a.Dulcejacintoazul torcido sobremi alma.Siento viajar tus ojosyesdistante el otofio:boinagris, vozde pdjaroy coraz6n de casabaciadonde emigrabanmis profundosanhelosy ca(anmis besosaeg res comobrasas.

Cielodesdeunnav(o. Campodesde los cerros.Tu recuerdo es de luz, de humo, de estanqueen calma!Masalldde tusojos ard(an los crepusculos.Hojas secas de otofiogiraban en tualma.


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~ V I ~ I%member 'You ;;;Is 'You 'Were

I remember you as youw ere in the last autumn.You w ere the gray beret and the still hear t.In your eyesthe flames of thetwil ight fough t on .And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasp ing my arms like a c l imbing plantthe leavesgarnered yourvoice, that was slow and atpeace.Bonfire of awe in which my th irst was burning .S w e e t blue hyacinth tw is ted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and theautum nis far off:g ray bere t , voice o f a bird , heart like a housetowards which mydeep longings migratedand my kisses fell, happy as embers.

Sky from a ship. Field from thehills.Your memory is m ade o f light, o f sm oke, o f a still pond!B eyond your eyes, farther on , theevenings w ere b lazing .Dry au tumn leaves revo lved in yoursoul.


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rr===-- V I I ~ lnclinado en las tardes

Inclinado en las tardes tiromis tristes redesatusojosoceanicos.Allrseestiray arde en lamasalta hoguerami soledadqueda vueltas los brazos como unnaufrago.

Hago rajas sefiales sabre tusojos ausentesqueolean como el marala orilla de unfaro.

Sologuardas tinieblas, hembra distante ym(a,de tumirada emerge aveces la costa del espanto.

Inclinado en las tardes echomis tristes redesaesemarque sacude tus ojos oceanicos.

Los pajarosnocturnos picotean las primeras estrellasquecentellean comomialma cuando te amo.

Galopa lanocheen suyegua sombr(adesparramando espigas azules sabre el campo.


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~ V I I ~~ a n i n g into the ;;Jjternoons

Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad netstowards your oceanic eyes.There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens

and flames,its arms turning like a drowning man's.I send out red signals across your absent eyesthat move like the sea near a lighthouse.You keep only darkness, my distant female,from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad netsto that sea that beats on your marine eyes.The birds of night peck at the first starsthat flash like my soul when I love you.The night gallops on its shadowy mareshedding blue tassels over the land.


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r-r===- V I I I ~ ;Abejablanca

Abejablanca zumbas, ebria de miel, enmialmay te tuerces en lentas espirales de humo.

Soyeldesesperado, la palabra sin ecos,el que lo perdi6 todo, y elque todo lo tuvo.

Ultima amarra, cruje en timi ansiedadultima.Enmi tierra desierta eres la ultima rosa.

Ahsilenciosa!Cierra tus ojos profundos. Allraletea lanoche.Ahdesnuda tu cuerpo de estatua temerosa.Tienes ojos profundosdonde la nochealea.Frescos brazosdeflory regazo de rosa.

Se parecen tus senosalos caracoles blancos.Ha venidoadormirse en tu vientreunamariposa de sombra.

Ahsilenciosa!


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~ V I I I ~ White Bee

Whitebee,youbuzz in m y soul, drunkw ith honey,andyourflightw inds in slowspiralsofsmoke.Iam theonew itho u thope , thewordw itho u techoes,hewholostevery th ing andhewhohadeverything.Lasthawser, inyoucreaksm ylast longing.In m ybarren land you are thefinal rose.A hyouwho are silent!Letyou rdeep eyesclose.Therethen igh tflutters.A hyou rbody, a frightened statue, naked.Youhave deepeyes inw h ich then igh t flails.Coolarms offlowers andalap ofrose.Yourbreastsseem likew hite snails.Abutterfly ofshadow has com eto sleeponyourbelly.A h youwho are silent!


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HeaqurIa soledad de donde estds ausente.Llueve. Elviento delmarcaza errantesgaviotas.

Elagua anda descalza parlas callesmojadas.Deaquelarbol sequejan, como enfermos, las hojas.

Abeja blanca, ausente, aun zumbas enmialma.Revives en el tiempo, delgada y silenciosa.

Ah silenciosa!


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Here is theso litude fromwhichyouareabsent.It is raining.Theseawindis huntingstray gulls .

Thewater walksbarefoot in thewetstreets.From that tree theleavescompla in as thoughtheywere sick.Whitebee,even whenyouaregoneyoubuzzinmysoul.You liveagain in time,slenderandsilent.

Ahyou whoaresilent!


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~ I X ~ ehriode trementina

Ebrio de trementinay largos besos,estival, el velero de las rosas dirijo,torcido bacia lamuertedeldelgado dla,cimentado en el solidofrenes(marino.

Palidoy amarradoamiagua devorantecruzo en el agrio olordel clima descubierto,aun vestido degrisy sonidos amargos,yuna cimera tristede abandonada espuma.

Voy, duro de pasiones, montadoenmiola unica,lunar, solar, ardienteyfrio, repentino,dormido en lagarganta de las afortunadasislas blancasy dulces como caderasfrescas.

Tiembla en lanochehumeda mivestido de besoslocamentecargado de electricasgestiones,de modo heroicodividido en suefiosy embriagadoras rosas practicandoseenmi.

Aguasarriba, enmedio de las olas externas,tu paralelo cuerpo se sujeta enmis brazoscomoun pez infinitamentepegadoamialmarapidoy lento en la energ(a subceleste.


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r r = - I X ~ 'Drunkwith P ines

Drunkwith pinesandlongkisses,likesummerIs tee rthefast sail o ftheroses,bent towards the deathofthethinday,s tuck in to myso lid marine madness.Pale andla shed tomyravenous water,Icruisein the sour smellofthenakedclim ate ,sti ll d ressed ing ray and bitter soundsanda sad crest ofabandonedspray.Hardenedbypassions, Igo mounted on myonewave,lunar, sola r, burningandcold , all atonce,becalmedin thethroatof thefo rtuna te is lesthatarewhiteandsw ee tas coo l hips.In themoistnight my garmentof kisses tremblescharged toinsan ity withelectric curren ts,hero ica lly d iv ided intodream sandintoxicatingroses p rac t ic ing onme.Upstream , in themidst oftheouterwaves,yourparallelbody yieldsto my armslike afish infin itely fas_tened tomysoul,qu ick andslow, in theenergyunderthe sky.


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1-femosperdido aunHe1nos perdidoaunestecrepusculo.Nadienosvi6esta tardecon las manosunidasmientras la nocbeazulca(a sobreelmundo.

Hevisto desdemiventanalafiesta del ponienteen los cerros lejanos.

Aveces comounamonedaseencendlaun pedazo de solentremismanos.

Yo te recordaba con el alma apretadade esa tristeza que tumeconoces.

Entonces, d6ndeestabas7Entrequigentes7Diciendoquepalabras7Porquisemevendra todo elamordegolpecuandome siento triste, y te siento lejana7

Cay6ellibroque siempre se toma enel crepusculoy comoun perro berido rod6amis pies micapa.

Siempre, siempre tealejas en las tardesbacia donde el crepusculocorreborrandoestatuas.


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WeHave.(qsteven Wehave losteven this tw ilight.Noonesaw us th is even ing handinhandwhile theblue night droppedontheworld .Ihaveseen frommywindowthefiesta o f sunsetin thed is tan t m ounta in tops.Sometim esap ieceo f sunburnedlikeaco inbe tw een myhands.Irememberedyouwithmysoulclenchedin thatsadnesso f m ine thatyouknow.Wherewere youthen? Whoelsewas there?Say ing what? Whywill thewhole o f lovecomeonmesuddenlywhenIam sad andfeel youare faraway?Thebookfell thatis always turnedtoat tw iligh tandmycapero lled like ahurt dogat myfeet.Always, alwaysyourecedethrough theeven ingstowardswherethetw iligh tgoeserasing statues.


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[asiJuera delcieloCasifuera del cieloancla entredosmontanaslamitadde la luna.Girante, errantenoche, la cavadora de ojos.Avercucintas estrellas trizadas en la charca.

Haceunacruz de luto entremis cejas, huye.Fragua demetalesazules, naches de las calladas luchas,mi coraz6nda vueltas comoun volante loco.Nina venida de tan lejos, trarda de tan lejos,avecesfulgurece sumirada debajo del cielo.Ouejumbre, tempestad, remolino defuria,cruza encima demicoraz6n, sin detenerte.Viento de los sepulcrosacarrea, destroza, dispersa tu ra(z sonolienta.Desarraiga losgrandes arboles al otro lado de ella.Pero tu, claranina, pregunta de humo, espiga.Era laque ibaformando elviento con hojas iluminadas.Detrdsde lasmontanasnocturnas, blanco lirio de incendio,ahnada puedodecir!Era hecha de todas las casas.


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~ X I ~ ;;;JfmostoutoftheSky

Almostout ofthesky, halfo f themoonancho rs betweentwo mountains.Turning,w ande r ing n igh t, thed iggerofeyes.Let's seehowmanystars aresm ashed in thepoo l.Itmakesacross o f m ourn ing be tw een myeyes,

andruns away.Forgeofbluemetals, n ights o f still combats ,myheartrevolves likeacrazywheel.G irlwhohavecomefrom so far, been broughtfrom sofar,sometim esyourglance flashes out under thesky.Rumbling, storm , cyc lone o f fury,youcrossabovemyheartwithoutstopp ing .Windfrom thetombscarriesoff, wrecks, sca tters your

sleepy root.

Thebigtreesontheothersideo f her,uprooted.But you, c loudlessgirl, question ofsmoke,corntassel.Youwerewhatthew ind wasmaking w ith illum inated leaves.Behind thenocturnalmountains,whitelilyofconflagration ,ah, Ican saynothing!Youwere m ade ofevery th ing .


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Ansiedadque partistemipechoacuchillazos,es horade seguirotro camino, donde ellano sonr(a.

Tempestad queenterr6 las campanas, turbio revuelo de tormentasparaquetocarlaahora, paraqueentristecerla.

Ayseguirel caminoque se aleja de todo,dondenoesteatajando laangustia, Ia muerte, el invierno,con susojosabiertos entre el rodo.


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Longing that sliced mybreast in to pieces,it is time totake another road, onwhichshe does not smile.

S to rm thatburiedthebells,muddy swirl o f to rm en ts , whytouchher now, whymakehersad.Ohtofollow the roadthatleadsaway from every th ing ,withoutanguish, death ,winterwaiting a long i t withtheir eyesopenthroughthedew.


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r r = : = - - X I I ~

Paramicoraz6n

Paramicoraz6n basta tu pecho,para tu libertad bastanmisalas.Desdemi boca llegarabasta el cielolo queestaba dormido sobre tualma.

Es en ti la ilusi6nde cada dra.Llegas como el roc(oalas corolas.Socavas el horizontecon tuausencia.Eternamenteenfuga como Ia ola.Hedicho quecantabas en el vientocomo los pinosy como losmastiles.Como ellos eres altay taciturna.Yentristeces de pronto, comounviaje.

Acogedora como unviejocamino.Te pueblan ecosy voces nostalgicas.Yo despertey aveces emigrany huyenpajaros quedorm(an en tualma.


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~ X I I ~ 'Your'Breast Is enough

Yourb reas t is enough formyheart,andmywings foryourfreedom .Whatwas sleep ing aboveyoursoul will riseoutofmymouthtoheaven.Inyouis theillusion ofeach day.Youarrive like thedew tothecuppedflowers.You underm ine thehorizonwith yourabsence.E ternally in flight likethewave.I have said thatyousang in thewindlike thepinesandlike themasts.Like themyouare ta llandtac iturn ,andyouaresad, all a tonce , like avoyage.Yougatherth ings toyou i k ~ anoldroad.You arepeopled withechoes andnosta lg ic voices.I awokeandattimesbirds fledandmigra ted thathadbeens leep ing inyoursoul.


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l-fe ido marcandoHe idomarcandocon cruces de fuegoel atlas blanco de tu cuerpo.Mi boca era unaaraiia quecruzaba escondiendose.En ti, detras de ti, temerosa, sedienta.

Historias quecontarteala orilla del crepusculo,muiieca tristey dulce, paraqueno estuvieras triste.Un cisne, unarbol, algo lejanoyalegre.El tiempo de las uvas, el tiempomaduroyfrutal.Yo que viv(en un puerto desdedonde teamaba.La soledadcruzada de sueiioy de silencio.Acorraladoentre el mary la tristeza.Callado, delirante, entredos gondoleros inm6viles.

Entre los labiosy la voz, algo se vamuriendo.Algoconalas de pajaro, algo de angustiay de olvido.As( como las redesno retienen el agua.Munecam(a, apenas quedangotas te111blando.Sin embargoalgo canta entreestas palabrasjugaces.Algo canta, algo subebastamiavida boca.Oh poder celebrartecon todas las palabras dealegr(a.


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r - r = - - X I I I ~

I I-fave yone JlrfarkingIhavegone mark ing theatlas o f yourbodyw ith crosses of fire.Mymouthwent across: a spider, trying tohide .In you, behindyou, tim id, drivenby thirst.S toriestotell youontheshore of evening,sad and gen tle doll, so that youshould not besad.Aswan, a tree, somethingfar awayand happy.The season of grapes, theripeandfruitful season.Iwho livedin aharbor fromwhichI loved you.Thesolitude crossed w ith dream andwith silence.Pennedupbetween the seaand sadness.Soundless, delirious, betweentwo motionless gondoliers .Between thelips and thevoice somethinggoes dying.Somethingwith the wingso f a bird, somethingof angu ish

andoblivion .Thewaynets cannothold water.Mytoy doll, onlya few drops are left trembling .Even so, something sings in thesefugitive words.Something sings, something climbstomy ravenousmouth.Ohtobe able toceleb ra te youwithall thewords ofjoy.


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Cantar, arder, buir, comoun campanario en lasmanos de un loco.Triste ternura mia, quete haces de repentoCuando he llegado al vertice masatrevidoyfriomi coraz6n se cierra comounajlornocturna.


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Sing, burn, flee, like a belfry a tthehands of a madman.Mysad tenderness, what comes overyou all a t once?When I have reached the most awesomeand the co ldes t

summitmy heart closes like a nocturnal flower.


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Juegas todo los diasIuegas todos los d(as con la luzdel universo.Sutilvisitadora, llegas en lajlory en el agua.Eresmasqueesta blanca cabecitaqueaprietocomo un racimo entremismanoscada dra.

Anadie te parecesdesdequeyo teamo.Dijame tenderteentreguirnaldas amarillas.Quien escribe tunombrecon letras de humoentre las estrellasdel suoAhdijame recordarte c6mo eras entonces, cuando aunno exist(as.

De pronto el vientoaullaygolpeamiventana cerrada.El cielo es una red cuajadade peces sombr(os.Aqu(vienen adar todos los vientos, todos.Se desviste la lluvia.Pasanhuyendo los pajaros.El viento. El viento.Yo solo puedo lucharcontra lafuerza de los hombres.El temporalarremolina hojasoscurasy suelta toda las barcasqueanocheamarraronal cielo.


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~ X I V ~ everyVay 'YouPlay

Everydayyouplay w ith thelightoftheuniverse.Sub tle visitor,youarrive in theflowerandthewater.Youare more thanth iswh ite headthatIholdtightlyas acluster offruit, every day,betweenmyhands.Youare likenobodysince Iloveyou.Letm esp read yououtamongyellow garlands.Whowritesyournamein le tters o f smokeamongthestarsofthesouth?Ohle tm erememberyouas youwerebefo re youexisted.Suddenlythewindhow lsandbangsat myshutwindow.Thesky is anetcrammedw ith shadowy fish.Hereall thewinds le tgosoonerorlater, all o f them .Therain takes offherclo thes.Thebirdsgoby, fleeing.Thewind.Thewind.Ican contendonlyagainstthepowerofmen.Thes to rm whirls dark leavesandturns loose all theboats that were mooredlastnighttothesky.


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Tuestdsaqul. Ah tuno huyes.Tameresponderds basta el ultimogrito.Ovz1lateami lado como si tuvierasmiedo.Sin embargoalguna vezcorri6una sombraextrana portus ojos.Ahora,ahora tambien, pequena, me traesmadreselvas,y tienes basta los senos petfumados.Mientras el viento tristegalopamatandomariposasyo teamo, ymialegrlamuerde tu boca de ciruela.

Cudnto te habradolidoacostumbrarteam{,amialma solay salvaje, aminombreque todosahuyentan.Hemos vistoardertantas veces ellucero besdndonos los ojosy sobrenuestrascabezas destorcerse los crepusculos en abanicos

girantes.Mis palabras llovieron sobre tiacaricidndote.Amedesde hace tiempo tu cuerpo de ndcarsoleado.Hasta te creo duena del universo.Te traer{de lasmontanasjloresalegres, copihues,avellanasoscuras, y cestas silvestres de besos.Ouierohacer contigolo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.


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You are here.Oh,youdonot run away.Youwill answerme tothelastcry.Clingtomeas thoughyouwerefrightened.Even so, a t onetimeastrangeshadow ran throughyoureyes.Now , nowtoo , little one ,youbringmehoneysuck le ,andeven yourbreasts smellofit.Whilethesad windgoess laugh te ring butterfliesIloveyou,andmyhappiness b ites theplum ofyourmouth.Howyoumusthavesuffered gettingaccustomedtome,mysavage, so litary soul, mynamethatsends them'allrunn ing .So manytimeswehave seen themornings ta r burn ,kissingoureyes,andoverourheads thegreyl igh tunwindin turningfans.Mywordsrainedover you, s trok ing you .A longt im e I haveloved thesunnedmother-of-pearl o fyourbody.Igoso far as tothinkthatyouowntheuniverse.Iwillbringyouhappyflowers from themountains ,bluebells,dark hazels,andrusticbasketsofkisses.Iwanttodowithyouwhatspring does withthecherrytrees.


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~ X V ~ c:7Vfegustascuando callas

Megustas cuando callas porqueestas comoausente,ymeayesdesde lejos, ymivoznotetoea.Pareceque los ojos se te hubieranvoladoy parecequeun beso te cerrara la boca.

Como todas las casas estdn llenas demialmaemerges de las casas, llena delalmam(a.Mariposa de suefio, te parecesamialma,y te parecesala palabramelancolra.

Megustas cuando callasy estds comodistante.Yestds comoquejdndote,mariposa en arrullo.Ymeayes desde lejos, ymivoznotealcanza:Dejamequemecalle con el silencio tuyo.

Dejameque te habletambien con tu silencioclaracomouna ldmpara, simplecomounanillo.Eres como lanoche, calladay constelada.Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejanoy sencillo.


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~ x v ~ I l ike for'You to J3e5till

Ilike foryoutobestill: it is as thoughyouwereabsen t,andyouhearmefrom far aw ayandmyvoiced o es nottouchyou.Itseem sas thoughyoureyeshadflown aw ayanditseem sthatakisshadsealed your mouth.

As all th ings are filledw ith mysoulyouem erge from theth ings , filledw ith mysoul.Youare likemysoul, abutte rfly ofdream ,andyouare like thewordM elancholy.Ilike foryoutobestill, andyouseem far away.Itsoundsas thoughyouw ere lam enting ,abutterf ly cooinglikeadove.Andyouhearmefrom far away, andmyvo ice doesnotreach you:Letmecometobestill inyoursilence.Andle tmetalktoyouw ith yoursilencethatisbrightas a lam p, sim pleas aring.You are like then ight,w ith its stillnessandconste lla tions.Yoursilenceis thatofastar, as remoteandcandid .


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Megustas cuando callas porqueestas como ausenteDistantey dolorosa como sihubierasmuerto.Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.Y estoyalegre, alegrede queno sea cierto.


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Ilike foryoutobestill: it is as thoughyouwereabsent,d is tan tand full ofsorrow as thoughyouhaddied.Oneword then ,onesmile, is enough.AndIamhappy,happythatit'snottrue.


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~ X V I ~ enmicieloalcrepusculo

Estepoemaesuna parafrasisdel poema30de

Eljardinero deRabindranath Tagore.

Enmicieloalcrepusculo eres comounanubey tu coloryforma son como yo los quiero.Eresm(a, eres m(a,mujerde labios dulcesy viven en tuvidamis infinitos suenos.La lamparadem(alma te sonrosa los pies,elagrio vinom(o es masdulce en tus labios,oh segadora demicanci6n de atardecer,c6mo te sientenm(amis suefios solitarios!

Eresm(a, eres m(a, voygritando en la brisade la tarde, y elvientoarrastramivozviuda.Cazadoradelfondo demis ojos, tu roboestanca como el agua tumiradanocturna.

En la red demimusica estas presa, amorm(o,ymis redes demusica sonanchas como el cielo.Mialma naceala orilla de tus ojosde luto.En tus ojos de luto comienza el pals del sueno.


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~ X V I ~In Jkfy Sky at Twilight

This poem is a paraphrase of the 30th poemin Rabindranath Tagore's The Gardener.

In my sky at twilight you are like a cloudand your form and color are the way I love them.You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lipsand in your life my infinite dreams live.The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,My sour wine is sweeter on your lips,oh reaper of my evening song,how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon'swind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunderstills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.

You are taken in the net of my music, my love,and my nets of music are wide as the sky.My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.


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~ X V I I ~ Pensando_, enredando sombras

Pensando, enredando sombras en la profunda soledad.Tuambien estds lejos, ahmds lejos quenadie.Pensando, soltando pdjaros, desvaneciendo imdgenes,enterrando ldmparas.Campanario de brumas, quelejos, alldarriba!Abogando lamentos, moliendo esperanzas sombr{as,molinero taciturno,se te viene de bruces Ia noche, lejos de la ciudad.

Tu presencia es ajena, extrana am(comouna cosa.Pienso, camino largamente, mivida antes de ti.Mi vida antes de nadie, midspera vida.Elgritofrente almar, entre las piedras,corriendo libre, loco, en el vabo delmar.Lajuriatriste, elgrito, Ia soledad delmar.Desbocado, violento, estirado bacia el cielo.

Tu, mujer, queeras all(, queraya, quevarillade ese abanico inmenso7Estabas lejos como ahara.Incendio en el bosque! Ardeen cruces azules.Arde, arde, llamea, cbispea en arboles de luz.


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~ X V I I ~ ThinkingJ TanglingShadows

Think ing , tang ling shadow sin thedeepso litude.You are far awaytoo ,ohfartherthananyone.Th ink ing , freeingbirds,dissolvingimages,bu ry ing lamps.

Belfry o f fogs, howfaraway, up there!Stiflinglaments,m illingshadowy hopes,tac iturn miller,nightfalls onyouface downward , far from thecity.Your p resence is foreign, as strange tomeas ath ing .Ith ink , Iexp lore g rea t trac ts ofmylife befo re you.Mylifebefo re anyone,myharsh life.Theshoutfacingthesea,amongtherocks,runn ing free, mad, in thesea-spray.Thesad rage, theshou t, thesolitudeofthesea.Headlong,violent,stretchedtowardsthesky.You,woman,whatwere youthere ,whatray,whatvaneofthatimmense fan? Youwere as far asyouarenow.Fire in theforest! Burn in bluecrosses.Burn, burn , flame up, sparkle in treeso f l igh t

. 6 5 ~


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Se derrumba, crepita. Incendio. Incendio.Ymi alma baila beridade virutas defuego.Ouien llama?Ouesilencio poblado de ecos?Hora de Ia nostalgia, borade Ia alegrla, bora de Ia soledad,boram{a entretodas!Bocina en queelviento pasa cantando.Tanta pasi6n de llantoanudadaamicuerpo.

Sacudida de todas las ra{ces,asalto de todas las olas!Rodaba, alegre, triste interminable, mialma.

Pensando, enterrando lamparas en la profunda soledad.

Ouien eres tu, quien eres?


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Itcollapses, crackling. Fire. Fire.Andmysouldances, searedw ith curlso f fire.Whocalls?Whatsilencepeop led w ith echoes?Hourofnostalgia,hourofhappiness,hourof solitude,hourthatisminefrom amongthemalltHuntinghornth rough which thew ind passessinging.Such apassionofweeping t ied tomybody.Shaking ofall theroots,a ttack ofall thewaves!Mysoulwandered, happy, sad, unending.Th inking ,bury ing lampsin thedeep solitude.Whoareyou,who areyou?


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r r== - X V I I I ~

;;IquiteamoAqu(teamo.En los oscuros pinos se desenreda el viento.Fosforece la luna sabre las aguas errantes.Andandlas iguales persiguiendose.Sedescine la niebla en danzantesfiguras.Unagaviota de plata se descuelga del ocaso.Aveces una vela. Altas, altas, estrellas.0 la cruznegra deun barco.Solo.Aveces amanezco, y bastami alma estdbumeda.Suena, resuena elmar lejano.Estees un puerto.Aqu(teamo.Aqurteamoy en vano teoculta el borizonte.Te estoyamanda aun entreestasjr(as casas.Aveces vanmis besos en esos barcosgraves,quecorren par elmarbaciadondeno llegan.Yameveoolvidado comoestas viejas anclas.Sonmas triste los muellescuando atraca la tarde.Sefatigami vida inutilmentebambrienta.Amo lo queno tengo. Estds tu tan distante.Mi bast(oforcejea con los lentos crepusculos.Pero la nocbe llegay comienzaacantarme.

~ 7 0 ~


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~ X V I I I ~ HereI L_qve 'You

HereI loveyou .In thedarkp ines the winddisen tangles itself.Themoonglows like phosphorusonthevagran t waters.Days,all onekind,gochasingeach o ther.Thesnowunfurls in dancing figures.A silver gull slips downfrom the west.Sometimes asail. High, highstars.Ohtheb lack cross of aship.A lone.Sometim es Igetup early andeven mysoul iswet.Faraway thesea sounds and resounds.Thisis a port.HereI love you.HereI loveyouandthe horizonh ides youin vain.Iloveyoustil l amongthese coldth ings.Sometimes mykisses goon those heavyvesselsthatcross the sea towards noarrival.I seemyself fo rgo tten like thoseold anchors .Thepierssadden whentheafternoonmoors there .Mylife growstired,hungrytonopurpose.I lovewhat Ido not have. You are so far.Myloathingwrestles w ith the slow tw ilights.Butnightcomesandstarts tosing tome.

rr==-- 71 ~


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La luna hacegirarsu rodajede sueno.Memiran con tus ojos las estrellasmasgrandes.Ycomoyote amo, los pinos en el viento,quieren cantartunombrecon sus hojas de alambre.


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Themoonturns its c lockwork dream .The biggest stars lookatmewith your eyes.Andas I love you , the pines in the windwanttosing yournamewith theirleaves o f w ire.


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~ X I X ~ "'Nina morenayagil

Nina morenay dgil, el sol que hace las frutas,el quecuaja los trigos, el quetuerce las algas,hizo tu cuerpo alegre, tus luminosos ojosy tu boca que tiene la sonrisa del agua.Un sol negroy ansioso se te arrolla en las hebrasde la negra melena, cuando estiras los brazos.Tuuegas con el sol como conun esteroy el te deja en los ojos dos oscuros remansos.Nina morenay dgil, nada hacia timeacerca.Todo de timealeja, como del mediodra.Eres la delirante juventud de la abeja,la embriaguez de la ala, la fuerza de la espiga.Micoraz6n sombr(o te busca, sin embargo,y amo tu cuerpo alegre, tu voz suelta y delgada.Mariposa morena dulcey definitivacomo el trigaly el sol, la amapolay el agua.


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~ X I X ~ (jirl {itheandTawny

Girl litheand tawny, the sun that formsthefruits, that plumpsthegrains, that curls seaweedsfilledyour bodywith joy, andyour lum inous eyesand your mouththat has thesmile ofthewater.Ab lack yearn ing sun is braided in to thestrandsofyour black mane, whenyou s tre tch your arm s.You play w ith thesun as with alittlebrookanditleaves twodark pools in youreyes.Girl lithe and tawny, nothingdrawsmetowardsyou.Everything bearsme farther away, as though youwerenoon .You are thefrenziedyouthofthebee,thedrunkennessofthewave, thepower ofthewheat-ear.Mysomberheartsearchesfor you, nevertheless,and I loveyourjoyfulbody, your slenderandflowingvoice.D ark butterfly, sweet and definitivelike thewheat-fieldandthe sun, thepoppyandthewater.


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r - r = = - - X X ~

Puedoescribir

Puedoescribir los versosmds tristes estanoche.Escribir, porejemplo: Lanoche estdestrellada,y tiritan, azules, losastros, alo lejos.

Elviento de lanochegira en el cieloy canta.Puedo escribir los versosmds tristes estanoche.Yo la quise, y aveces ella tambienmequiso.

En las naches como {sta la tuveentremis brazos.Lebes{tantasveces bajo el cielo in.finito.Ellamequiso, avecesyo tambien laquer(a.Como no haber amado susgrandes ojos.fijos.

Puedo escribir los versosmds tristes estanoche.Pensarqueno la tengo. Sentirque la he perdido.

Oirla noche inmensa, mds inmensa sin ella.Yel verso caealalma comoal pasta el rodo.


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r r = = - - - X X ~

TonightI Can 'WriteTonight I can w rite thesaddest lines.W rite , for exam ple,"The night is starry andthe stars areblueandshiverin thedistance."Thenightwindrevolves in the skyandsings.TonightI can w rite thesaddest lines.I loved her, andsom etim es she loved m e too .Through nights like this one Iheldherinmyarms.Ikissedheragainandagainunder theendless sky.S he loved m e, som etim es I loved hertoo .Howcould onenothave loved her grea t still eyes.Tonight I can w rite thesaddestlines.TothinkthatI do nothaveher. To feel that Ihave los t her.Tohearthe im m ense night, still m ore im m ensewithouther.Andtheverse falls tothe soul like dew tothepasture.


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Oueimporta quemiamorno pudieraguardarla.La noche estaestrellada y ella no estaconmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.Mialma no se contenta con haberla perdido.Como paraacercarla mimirada la busca.Micoraz6n la busca, y ellanoestaconmigo.

La misma nocheque hace blanquear los mismosarboles.Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.Ya no la quiero, es cierto, perocuanto la quise.Mivoz buscaba el viento para tocarsu o{do.

Deotro. Sera de otro. Como antes de mis besos.Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.Es tan corto el amor, yestan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como esta la tuveentre mis brazos,mi almanosecontentacon haberla perdido.Aunqueeste sea el ultimo dolor queella me causa,y estos sean los ultimos versos queyo le escribo.


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What does itmatter that my lovecould not keep her.The night is s tarry and sh e is notwith me.

T h is is all. In thedistance so m eon e is singing. In the distance.Mysoul is not satisfiedthat it has lo s t her.Mysight tries tofind her as though to bring her closer.Myheart looks for her, andsh e is not with m e.

Thesam e night whitening the sam etrees.W e, o f that tim e, are nolongerthesam e.

Ino longer love her, that's certa in , but howI loved her.Myvo ice tried to find the wind to touchher hearing .A nother's.Shewill be another's . As sh e was b efo re mykisses.Hervoice , herbrightbody. Herinfinite eyes.Ino longer love her, that's certa in , but maybeI love her.Love is so sh o rt , fo rg e tt in g is so long .

Because through n ig h ts like th is oneI held her in myarm smy soul is not satisfiedthatit has lo s t her.Though th is be the last pain that sh e m akesme sufferand these the last verses. thatI w rite for her.


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Lf! canci6n desesperadaEmerge tu recuerdo de la nocbeen queestoy.El r(o anudaalmarsu lamentoobstinado.Abandonadocomo losmuelles en el alba.Es la bora de partir, obabandonado!

Sabre micoraz6n lluevenfrlas corolas.Ob sentina de escombros, feroz cueva de naufragos.En ti seacumularon lasguerrasy los vuelos.Detialzaron las alas los pajarosdel canto.

Todo te lo tragaste, como la lejan(a.Como elmar, como el tiempo. Todo en tifuenaufragio!

Era laalegreboradelasaltoy el beso.La bora del estuporqueardla comounfaro.

Ansiedadde piloto,furia de buzo ciego,turbia embriaguezde amor, todo en ti fue naufragio!

En la infancia denieblami almaaladay berida.Descubridorperdido, todo en tifuenaufragio!


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The Songof VespairThememoryofyouemergesfrom thenight aroundme.Theriverm ingles its s tubborn lam en twiththesea.Desertedlike the wharvesat dawn.It is thehour ofdeparture,ohdeserted one!Coldflower headsare rain ing overmyheart.Ohpitofdebris, fierce caveofthesh ipw recked.Inyouthewarsandtheflights accumulated.Fromyouthewings ofthesongbirdsrose.You swallowedeveryth ing , likedistance.Like thesea, like time. Inyouevery th ing sank!It was thehappyhourof assaultandthekiss.Thehouro f thespell thatblazedlikealigh thouse .Pilot's dread, fury ofablinddiver,tu rbu len tdrunkennessof love, inyoueverythingsank!In the childhoodofm istmysoul,wingedandwounded .Lostdiscoverer, inyouevery th ing sank!


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Te cefiistealdolor, te agarrastealdeseo,te tumb6 la tristeza, todo en tifuenaufragio!

Hice retroceder lamuralla de sombra,anduvemdsallddel deseo y del acto.Oh carne, carnem(a,mujerqueam{y perd(,ati en esta bora humeda, evocoy hago canto.

Comounvasoalbergaste la infinita ternura,y el infinito olvido te triz6comoaun vaso.Era la negra, negra soledadde las islas,yall(,mujerde amor, meacogieron tus brazos.

Era la sedy el hambre, y tufuiste lafruta.Era el duelo y las ruinas, y tufuiste elmilagro.Ahmujer, no secomo pudistecontenermeen la tierra de tualma, yen la cruz de tus brazos!

Mis deseo de tifue elmds terribley corto,elmds revuelto yebrio, elmds tirantey dvido.

Cementerio de besos, aun hayfuego en tus tumbas,aun los racimosarden picoteados de pdjaros.


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Youg ird led sorrow,youc lung todesire,sadnessstunnedyou, inyoueverythingsank!Im adethewall o f shadowdraw back,beyonddesireandact, Iw alked on.Ohflesh,myown flesh, woman whomIloved andlost,I summonyouin themoisthour, Iraisemysongtoyou.Like ajaryouhoused theinfinite tenderness.andtheinfinite oblivion shatteredyoulike ajar.Therewastheb lack solitudeoftheislands,andthere ,w oman oflove,yourarms tookme in.Therewereth irs t andhunger,andyouwere thefruit.Therewere g riefandtheruins, andyouwere themiracle.Ahwoman, Idonotknowhowyoucould containmein theearth ofyoursoul, in thecrossofyourarms!Howterrib le andbriefwasmydesireofyou!Howdifficultanddrunken,howtensedandavid.Cemeteryofkisses, thereis still fire inyourtombs,still thefruitedboughs burn, peckedat bybirds.


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Oh la bocamordida, oh los besadosmiembros,oh los hambrientos, dientes, oh los cuerpos trenzados.

Oh la copula loca de esperanzay esfuerzoen quenosanudamosy nosdesesperamos.

Y la ternura, levecomo el aguay la harina.Y la palabraapenas comenzada en los labios.

Esefue mi destinoyene1 viaj6mianhelo,yene1 cay6mianhelo, todo en tifuenaufragio!

Oh, sentina de escombros, en ti todo ca{a,quedolornoexprimiste, quedolorno te ahoga!

De tumbo en tumbo aun llamaste y cantaste.De pie como unmarino en la proade un barco.

Aunjloreciste en cantos, aun rompiste en corrientes.Oh sentinade escombros, pozoabiertoy amargo.

Palido buzo ciego, desventurado hondero,descubridor perdido, todo en tifue naufragio!


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Ohthebittenmouth, ohthekissedlimbs,ohthe hungeringteeth, ohtheentwinedbod ies .

Ohthemadcoupling ofhopeandforceinwhichwemergedanddespaired .Andthe tenderness , l igh t as waterandas flour.And thewordscarcely begun onthe lips.

Thiswasmydestiny andin itwas thevoyage ofmylong ing,andin itmylongingfelC inyoueverythingsank!Ohp it o f debris,everythingfell in to you,whatsorrow d id younotexpress, inwhat sorrow areyounotdrowned!

From billow tobillow youstill ca lled andsang.Standinglike asailor in theprowofa vessel.You still flowered in songs,youstillbroke in currents .Ohpit o fdebris,openandbitter well.Paleblinddiver, luckless slinger,lost d iscoverer, inyoueverything sank!


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Es la bora de partir, la dura yjrla boraque la nocbe sujetaatodo borario.

Elcintur6n ruidoso del marcine la costa.Surgenjrlas estrellas, emigran negros pdjaros.Abandonadocomo los muelles en el alba.Solo la sombra tremula se retuerceenmismanos.

Abmdsalldde todo. Abmdsallade todo.Es la bora de partir. Obabandonado!


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It is thehourofdeparture, thehard co ld hourwhich then igh t fastens to all thetimetables.

Therustlingbe lt o f theseagirdles theshore.Coldstars heaveup, blackbirdsm igrate.D ese r ted like thewharves atdawn.Onlyth e tremulousshadow twists inm y hands.

Ohfarther thaneveryth ing.Ohfartherthanevery th ing .It is thehourofdeparture .Ohabandoned one!


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Selected'BibliographyA list ofthe principalworks of Pablo Neruda w ith thedatesofthe ir first appearanceLa canci6n de lafiesta (Ediciones Juventud,Santiago, 1921)Crepusculario (Editorial C laridad, Santiago, 1923)Vientepoemas de amoryuna canci6ndesesperada (Nascimento, San-

tiago, 1924)Tentativa del hombre in.finito (Nascimento,Santiago, 1925-26)El habitantey su esperanza (Nascimento, Santiago, 1925-26)Anillos (Nascimento, Santiago, 1926)El honderoentusiasta (EmpresaLetras, Santiago, 1933)Residencia en la tierra 1925-1931 (Nascimento, Santiago, 1933)Residencia en la tierra 1925-1935 (C ruz yRaya, M adrid , 1935)Tercera residencia 1935-1945(Losada, BuenosAires, 1947)Cantogeneral (PrivateEditionand Editorial O ceano , Mexico ,

1950)Losversosdelcapitan (Private Edition, Naples, 1952)Las uvasy elviento (Nascimento, Santiago, 1954)Odaselementales (Losada, Buenos Aires, 1954)Neuvasodaselementales (Losada, BuenosAires, 1956)Tercer libro de odas (Losada, BuenosAires, 1957)Obras completas (Losada, BuenosAires, 1957; rev. andaugm.,

1962)Estravagario (Losada, Buenos Aires, 1958)


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Navegacionesy regresos (Losada, BuenosAires, 1959)Cien sonetos de amor (Private Edition , San tiago and Losada,

BuenosAires, 1959)Cantos ceremoniales (Losada, Buenos Aires, 1961)Plenos poderes (Losada, Buenos Aires, 1962)Memorial de IslaNegra (Losada, Buenos Aires, 1964)

EDITOR's NOTE:Thereis uncerta in ty , evenamongexperts, astosome details ofNeruda 's b ib liography.


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Suggestionsfor:Further ~ a d i n g Bestiary. Trans. Elsa Neuberger.NewYork: HarcourtBrace&W orld . 1965.TheHeightsofMacchuPicchu.Trans.N a than ie l Tarn.NewYork:Farrar, S trausandGiroux.Twenty Poems. Trans. R obert Bly, John Knoepfle, andJam esW righ t. Boston,Mass.: BeaconPress. 1967.Neruda and Vallejo: Selected Poems. Trans. Robert Bly, JohnKnoepfle,andjamesW righ t.Boston,Mass: BeaconPress.

1971.The Captain's Verses. Trans.DonaldD .W alsh.NewYork: NewD irec tions. 1972.Residence on Earth. Trans. DonaldD. W alsh. NewYork: New

D irec tions. 1973.Extravagaria.Trans.A lastairReid.NewYork: Farrar,StrausandGiroux. 1974.FullyEmpowered. Trans.A lastairReid.NewYork:Farrar,Straus,andGiroux. 1975.SongofProtest. Trans.M iguelAlgarfn.NewYork:W illiam M or-

row. 1976.ACallfor theDestruction of Nixon andPraisefor the ChileanRevolu-tion. Trans.TeresaAnderson .C am bridge ,Mass.:WestEndPress. 1980.Isla Negra: ANotebook. Trans. A lastairReid.NewYork: Farrar,StrausandGiroux. 1981.


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ArtofBirds. Trans. Jack Schm itt. Austin: U nivers ity ofTexasPress. 1985.

OneHundredLoveSonnets.Trans.S tephen Tapscott.Austin:Uni-versity ofTexas Press. 1986.

The Stones ofChile. Trans. D enn is M aloney. Fredonia, N.Y.:WhitePinePress. 1986.

WinterGarden.Trans.W illiam O 'Daly.Po r t Townsend,W ash.:CopperC anyon Press. 1986.

StonesoftheSky. TJ;"ans. JamesN o lan . Port Townsend, W ash.:CopperC anyon Press. 1987.

The Sea and the Bells. Trans. W illiam O 'Daly . Po rt Townsend,W ash.:CopperCanyonPress. 1988.

The Yellow Heart. Trans. W illiam O 'Daly. Port Townsend ,W ash.:CopperCanyonPress. 1990.

Selected Odes ofPablo Neruda. Trans. M argare t Sayers Peden.Berkeley: University of

CaliforniaPress. 1991.TheBookofQuestions. Trans. W illiam O 'Daly. Port Townsend,

W ash.:CopperCanyonPress. 1991.Canto General. Trans. Jack Schm itt. Berkeley: U niversity o f

Neruda, Pablo - Twenty Love Poems & a Song of Despair (Penguin, 2004)

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Transcript of Neruda, Pablo - Twenty Love Poems & a Song of Despair (Penguin, 2004)