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User Rating:
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5.9
/10
(251 votes)
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It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.
Pablo Neruda
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: green, water, fire, wind, sky, sun, night, spring, dance, journey, work
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Comments about this poem (Bird
by
Pablo Neruda
) |
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Maxim Muyu (8/26/2010 9:55:00 AM)
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great to share such a nice poem, keep on writing more.
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Mario A. Cepeda (9/9/2009 7:32:00 PM)
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Wow, Pablo, como un Picasso de palabras! Like a Picasso of words, you have given flight beyond alphabet! Gracias!
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Andrew Quintana (8/18/2009 7:15:00 PM)
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What a lovely nature poem! I liked it because of the images used to convey the meaning. He's not telling us what to feel, he's just dressing it up in words that are lovely and beautiful.
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john tiong chunghoo (7/1/2006 3:49:00 AM)
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lovely pablo. rare poem about flying up there. mine to share:
flight
woman
next to me
her lips fly away
with prayers
her fingers
dancing round
her prayer beads
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Read all
6
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