Sunday, July 8, 2007

Remembering Neruda...


"My feet sink down into the dead leaves. a fragile twig crackles, the giant rauli trees rise in all their bristling height, a bird from the cold jungle passes over, flaps its wings and stops in the sunless branches...."

...Pablo Neruda!...As Marquez says...'He is the greatest poet of the twentieth century in any language.'
I am hooked to these verses by him entitled 'Broken Glass'
" Come on Love poem, get up from among the broken glass, the time to sing has come.
Help me love poem, to make things whole again, to sing inspite of pain.
It's true that the world does not cleanse itself of wars, does not wash off the blood, does not get over its hate. It's true...
And I go on believing in the possibility of love. I am convinced that there will be mutual understanding among human beings, achieved in spite of all the suffering, the blood, the broken glass
."
And...wouldn't I just die for verses such as these?
"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me,
All day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,your hands the color of a savage harvest,
Hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes.
And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,hunting for you, for your hot heart,like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue."

His poetry were subjected to serious criticism and exposed to vicious attacks of slander, but as he says that a poet who is not a realist is dead and the poet who is a realist is also dead. The poet who is only irrational will only be understood by his beloved, and this is very sad. The poet who is all reason will even be understood by jackasses, and this is also terribly sad.
And yet, he says...there are no hard and fast rules, there are no ingredients prescribed by God or the Devil...

" I have come out of that landscape, that mud, that silence, to roam, to go singing through the world.."

Kindled

Last night You wrote your sonnets in  Braille: the commas, parenthesis,  Ellipses... engraved perfectly on my skin- and I  w...