Thursday, December 14, 2006


It is true that my long mastery
divided up the dreams
and without my knowing there arose
walls, separations, endlessly.

Then I went to the coast.

I saw the beginnings of the ship,
I touched it, smooth as the sacred fish---
it quivered like the harp of God,
the woodwork was clean,
it had the scent of honey.
And when it did not come back,
the ship did not come back,
while I returned to the wood
with the ax naked like a star.

*a loose translation and exert from Pablo Neruda's The Builder


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