Pablo Neruda

POETRY: Poems From On The Blue Shore Of Silence, by Pablo Neruda

April 2, 2014

The Sea I need the sea because it teaches me. I don’t know if I learn music or awareness, if it’s a single wave or its vast existence, or only its harsh voice or its shining suggestion of fishes and ships. The fact is that until I fall asleep, in some magnetic way I move in the university of the waves. It’s not simply the shells crunched as if some shivering planet were giving signs of its gradual death; no, I reconstruct the day out of a fragment, the stalactite from the sliver of salt, and the great god out of a spoonful. What it taught me before, I keep. It’s air ceaseless wind, water and sand. It seems a small thing for a young man, to have come here to live with his own fire; nevertheless, the pulse that rose [...]

POETRY: Three Poems On Faith

August 21, 2013

Dear Neighbor God Dear neighbor god, if sometimes I disturb you in the middle of the night with my knocking, it’s because so often I can’t hear you breathing and know: you’re alone over there. And if you need something, and no one’s there to fill the cup and put it in your fingers, I’m always listening. Only say the word. I’m right here. Only a little wall stands between us, built by chance: for this is all it might take— one cry from your mouth or mine, and it would break down and not make a scene, or sound. It is made up of all your images. And your images stand around you like names. And if just once the light in me burns high that shows the way to you from deep inside, it goes to waste as glare [...]