‘one day, rainier than other days,
the railwayman, Jose del Carmen Reyes,
climbed aboard the train of death,
and so far has not come back.’

And when you boarded your train, Pablo,
with a steady step,
and your flag and lamp,
the roots of cedars groaned
it’s said, and a great golden fish
nosed at the patient rocks
of Isla Negra.

You left a stillness
full of definite birds;
steered with the backbone of a whale
down the tired river where
willows and a bloodied cross
cast shade, sunlight was shattered
by electric screams.

Your fingers reached out
from great hams of fists
to work on wire, unwind the chains,
unyoke the stubborn oxen
from the plough.

Your flag reflected
in the waters of Jarama;
your swinging lamp the flame
of endless departures.


*NB. Better known as Pablo Neruda

sorry, milner, I have not answered this little powerhouse because, right after reading it, I googled to neruda's poetry and bio, and have been there ever since, and that was two hours ago----what a soul!!!----thank you for this----it speaks him with such careful and artfully presented respect and admiration----you understand him, from very deep places in yourself, where you also are----and I can see both of you, wrapped in great wings, and overflowing with joyous exhilaration...

"And when you boarded your train, Pablo,
with a steady step,
and your flag and lamp,
the roots of cedars groaned..."

"...steered with the backbone of a whale
down the tired river where..."

"Your fingers reached out
from great hams of fists..."


Michael

Thanks, Don Ricardo. You prompted me to put this up - it ain't new. I fear some of the references to his life, death, and poetry will be missed by many, but that's the way of things. A lot of 'poets', here in the UK, I've been astonished to find have never heard of one Pablo Neruda.

milner (Guillermo de la plaza mayor - quizas peor)

Now you've met the man, Michael, with a heart like a great white cloud.

milner

Milner,
Effective tribute. Over here you can not find a bookshelf without his work. If you really want to get lost in the thick rain drenched language, then Gabriel Maria Marquez is a must. He does with prose what most poets can't imagine...

This is going up.

larry

*


Milner,

Aun Aprendo— Amigo. 

Give me not a yard of rag for my head and a few threadbare trinkets, then, so we may beat a feast from this silent timbre— a worthy tribute for a great troubadour. Bueno Larry.

Michael,

El coco— from this grateful gitano.


Ron,

We're from the same pueblo at heart— I feel this. Special thanks to you my friend.


Dax.



*



 

Thanks Larry, and Gabriel Garcia Marques is my hero novelist. I remember, many years ago, starting to read One Hundred Years of Solitude and thinking 'this man writes poetry, he can't possibly keep this up for a whole novel'. But he did.

milner

Milner,
   The deep, lusty images you have here sruck my heart.  Your descriptions are as strong as the man's writings.  Thank-you for this marvelousl read from that deep place few can touch.

    Joan

I would not have heard of Pablo Neruda if it were not for my aunt. I am grateful for having been exposed to such eloquent poetry. He puts things so simply, it is hard not to fall in love.
    What a beautiful tribute...

I love Pablo's tiny little one liner:

"I want to do to you what the spring does with the cherry trees"



Thanks MP...as always...

Thanks Joan, for such a kind comment.

I'd mentioned in a reply the ignorance of some 'poets' here to his work. He is readily available and respected here in the UK, it's just that there are some'poets' who, I think, are either so insular, or up their own backsides and obsessed with poetry 'fashions', that they are deaf and blind. Those that have heard of him and still ignore his poetry because he's 'foreign', must lead sorry lives.

milner

Must be your favourite aunt, Joseph. Thanks, and for reminding me of the cherry trees.

milner

Because of Tom's poem, and other stuff on threads, I thought I might bring this back up.

milner

lovely. hear the echo of "con trapo y noche" in "and your flag and lamp", which reminds me of your flip of night and day in "at the end of the trip". tom