Post more comments

Pablo Neruda

(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973 / Parral / Chile)

Sonnet XXXIV


You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.

Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.

Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.

And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest-
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.

Translated by Stephen Tapscott

Submitted: Monday, March 29, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Sonnet XXXIV by Pablo Neruda )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. Breaking Free, Maverick Jones
  2. Delusion, Gabriel Jirgba
  3. Something Special, Gabriel Jirgba
  4. Enough, Lilly Emery
  5. A Dog's Life., richard harris
  6. Country Till I Die, Maverick Jones
  7. Burnout 14, Moses Samandar
  8. Ice Cold River, Maverick Jones
  9. No worries, creative killer
  10. I had a dream we were back together again, ernestine howqard

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Browning

After
by Robert Browning

Take the cloak from his face, and at first
Let the corpse do its worst!

How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]