Treasure Island

Pablo Neruda

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

The Night in Isla Negra


Ancient night and the unruly salt
beat at the walls of my house.
The shadow is all one, the sky
throbs now along with the ocean,
and sky and shadow erupt
in the crash of their vast conflict.
All night long they struggle;
nobody knows the name
of the harsh light that keeps slowly opening
like a languid fruit.
So on the coast comes to light,
out of seething shadow, the harsh dawn,
gnawed at by the moving salt,
swept clean by the mass of night,
bloodstained in its sea-washed crater.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

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  • Cecilia Nicoletti (3/1/2007 6:15:00 AM)

    Who do not love him?
    Who will not believe him?
    He came from the poor cold South.HE came from tha materially poor life.Connected to nature love human needs and sacrifice.
    He borned poet and to be what he is now.A reference to anyone who want to know what is poetry about.
    Besides he has ideas.And he has ideas when it was dangerous to own them.He has a voice and he was prosecuted and suffered as anyone who cares suffer.
    Nowadays that ideas turned so light...and poetry seem useful and delicatesness seems a buyable thing is good to remind the man who came from the south with heart full of dreams and corageus enough to have ideas.Isla Negra was his shelter, and his dream and his creation and his monument honoring love for life and love for the sea.
    Who will not love him? (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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