Favorite poem? - Page 41

Another favorite by someone so sublime, Pablo Neruda:


The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!

Cold flower heads are raining over my heart. of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time. In it everything sank!

It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss. The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse. Pilot ?? s dread, fury of a blind diver,
turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank!

In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded. / p>

The Weekend Artist
Perhaps the aesthetics of their phrases are meant to stay un-sketched as a thought and not scribed for later visual perception. These experiences, though harsh at times, help you to comprehend what truly matters and what can be taken at face value.

You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire, you sadness stunned you, in you everything sank!

I made the wall of shadow draw back, , I walked on.

Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost, I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you. > Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness, and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.

There was the black solitude of the islands, and there, woman of love, your