Poetry Friday: A Poem by Pablo Neruda

On Monday, I featured Pablo Neruda: Poet of the People for Nonfiction Monday.  Today a poem from Pablo Neruda.

Only in Death
~translated by Robert Bly

There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.

And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,
death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.

Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,
caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.

The rest of the poem can be found HERE.

Poetry Friday is at Teaching Authors.  I have some original poems for Poem A Day challenge for November at Deowriter.

Happy Reading.

MsMac

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2 thoughts on “Poetry Friday: A Poem by Pablo Neruda

  1. Neruda always has this distinct power to make me sigh out loud:

    “like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
    as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
    as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.”

    and I sigh, yet again. 🙂 I’m glad you have reviewed Poet of the People – we featured that for Nonfiction Monday as well (and I discovered the book through other people’s posts on the book also on Nonfiction Monday). I took it one step further by looking into The Dreamer by Pam Munoz Ryan and Peter Sis. 🙂 You might want to look into that too. 🙂

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