The Dream
Walking on the sands
I decided to leave you.
I was treading a dark clay
that trembled
and I, sinking and coming out,
decided that you should come out
of me, that you were weighing me down
like a cutting stone,
and I worked out your loss
step by step:
to cut off your roots,
to release you alone into the wind.
Ah in that minute,
my dear, a dream
with its terrible wings
was covering you.
You felt yourself swallowed by the clay,
and you called to me and I did not come,
your were going, motionless,
without defending yourself
until you were smothered in quicksand.
Afterwards
my dream,
and from the rupture
that was breaking our hearts
we came forth clean again, naked,
loving each other
without dream, without sand,
complete and radiant,
sealed by fire.
~ Pablo Neruda ~
My Neruda books are badly worn. I do not remember who first brought him to me, I think it must have been Dr. Gonzalez in her literature class, but being that he was a socialist, and she another forced Cuban exile, I somehow have my doubts.
I do remember buying my first Neruda books, walking through the streets of Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, in 1986; I found bilingual versions of The Captain’s Verses and Residence on Earth. Undoubtedly, Neruda should be read in Spanish, but still he does translate; in honor of Valentine’s Day, a favorite poem by a favorite poet.
