Thursday, October 11, 2007

Sonnet VIII, by Pablo Neruda

* If your eyes were not the color of the moon, of a day full [here, interrupted by the baby waking -- continued about 26 hours later ] of a day full of clay, and work, and fire, if even held-in you did not move in agile grace like the air, if you were not an amber week, not the yellow moment when autumn climbs up through the vines; if you were not that bread the fragrant moon kneads, sprinkling its flour across the sky, oh, my dearest, I could not love you so! But when I hold you I hold everything that is -- sand, time, the tree of the rain, everything is alive so that I can be alive: without moving I can see it all: in your life I see everything that lives. *

Comments:
Thanks for posting this. Pablo has some really amazing ideas on poetry, love, and social justice.
I thought you might like this one:


The Potter

Your whole body holds
a goblet or gentle sweetness destined for
me.

When I let my hand climb,
in each place I find a dove
that was looking for me, as if
my love, they had made you out of clay
for my very own potter’s hands.

Your knees, your breasts,
your waist
are missing in me, like in the hollow
of a thirsting earth
where they relinquished
a form,
and together
we are complete like one single river,
like one single grain of sand.




We are continuing his legacy of expression and social activism.
If you want to find out more about Pablo, or his poetry, his political ideals,
or how we are working to keep these things going, please check out the
Red Poppy Website!
 
Oh Jeebus...that one is soooo melty hot...Thank you for the comment and the website..I'm checking it out now...albeit on dial-up...

Your whole body holds
a goblet or gentle sweetness destined for
me.


I'm stuck here..that is some physically moving wordage...
 
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