“Poetry is an action”
Kristie and Kevin remind me that today is the hundredth anniversary of Pablo Neruda’s birth. Kristie posts her fave Neruda sonnet, which also happens to be mine as well (creepy, no?), at The Dish: Poetry is an action:
No tag for this post.
Sonnet LXXVIII by Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)
I have no never-again, I have no always. In the sand
victory abandoned its footprints.
I am a poor man willing to love his fellow men.
I don’t know who you are. I love you. I don’t give away thorns,
and I don’t sell them.Maybe someone will know that I didn’t weave crowns
to draw blood; that I fought against mockery;
that I did fill the high tide of my soul with the truth.
I repaid vileness with doves.I have no never, because I was different —
was, am, will be. And in the name
of my ever-changing love I proclaim a purity.Death is only the stone of oblivion.
I love you, on your lips I kiss happiness itself.
Let’s gather firewood. We’ll light a fire on the mountain.
