Pablo Neruda and his Nobelest compatriot, Gabriela Mistral, are ever-present here in Santiago and environs. Street signs and plaques and statues abound and teens exemplify Neruda’s themes in every park and secluded corner.
Leaning Into The Afternoons
Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
towards 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 eyes
that smell like the sea or the beach by 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 nets
to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.
The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.
The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land.
Pablo Neruda
laura
8 Jan 2012did you know he only wrote with a green pen? the color of hope.
love this poem! xox
Barbara Ro
13 Jan 2012Hi, Val — I would think that you are having a blast with Neruda in English and in Spanish side by side. I can see the simple constructions you mentioned, and the hard vocabulary, and with one finger on one side and one finger on the other, you could decode it.
First deep snow here in Chicago, Theodore the dog in his jacket and blanket bounds through it, and the lake is roiling. Love to you both —