Treasure Island

Pablo Neruda

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

Sonnet XXXIV (You are the daughter of the sea)


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 by Hen

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003
Edited: Tuesday, January 24, 2012

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