The silence was swirling
around my head like smoke.
There was no movement
except for the branches
of the tree swaying slightly
in the breeze
I reached to pull a piece
of fruit off the tree
when suddenly a mad goose
began pecking at my feet
He was fiercely attacking
my ankles and legs.
I tried to step away.
But every turn brought him
closer.
I fed him red clover and stroked
his feathered head.
He ran away to fight other battles
leaving me in silence again.
Ode to a Watch in the Night
(ODA A UN RELOJ EN LA NOCHE)
by Pablo Neruda
In the night, on your hand,
my watch shines as a glowworm
I listen to its ticking:
a dry whisper
comingfrom your invisible hand.
Your hand then comes back to my breast in the darkness
to gather my dream and its rhythm.The watch
relentlessly cuts at time
with its little saw teeth.
As in a forest
there fall
fragments of wood
tiny scraps, pieces
of foliage or nests,
without changing the silence,
without changing the fresh darkness;so
relentlessly, the watch saws,
from your invisible hand,
moments, moments,
and minutes
fall like leaves,
fibers of ruined time,
small black plums.As in the forest,
we smelled roots,
the water in some place fell away in drops
like fat, wet grapes
A tiny mill
grinds the night,
the shadow murmurs
falling from your hand
and filling the earth.
Dust,
earth, distance
grinds and grinds
on your hand.I put
my arm
beneath your invisible neck,
beneath its tepid weight
and in my hand
the time falls,
the night falls,
little noises
of wood and the forest,
from divided night,
from fragments of shadow,
from water that falls and falls:then
the dream falls
upon the watch and upon
your two sleeping hands,
falling like dark water
in the forest,from the watch
to your body
making from you countries,
dark water,
time that falls
and flows within us.And so the night passes,
shadows and space, earth
and time,
a thing that runs and falls
and passes away.
And so all the nights
go on earth,
leaving nothing but a vague
dark odor,
a leaf falls,
a drop falls
on the earth
quenching its sound,
the woods, the waters,
the meadows,
the bells,
the eyes
all sleep.I hear your breathing,
my love:let us sleep
the toll of the bell
resonating through my brain
drilling my body into the ground
a cumbersome book clung to my head
and with the next clang
the book opened revealing
a house balanced on my skull
the drilling stopped
my breath slowed
I became aware of my fingers
the peal fading into dusk
the house stood before me
beside it a mango tree
grew strong and tall
with heavy fruit pulling
the branches down low
Namaste, namaste
sizzling silver summer sandal shines splendidly
scorching sun stifles sweltering seated sticky sunbathers
seriously seeking sustaining serene shade
strange soul- searching sultry soldiers step solidly
stage soloists slide sideways singing silly songs
spectators see slowly setting sun sparkle superbly
suspicious strangers scrupulously stroll sluggishly
suddenly separating sadly
sidewalks shorten, shadows stretch
stars sprinkle shadowy sky
making grimy mud pies in the dirt
shaping the dark, cool muck
into round compact disks
scoring the top into wedges
with a bent twig
decorating the pies with flowers
totally engrossed in the task
only the breeze as a playmate
until a caterpillar called her name
breaking her reverie
and sending her screaming
across the lawn
looking for her mother
who laughed until tears streamed
down her cheeks
and the young girl kicked her pies
breaking them in pieces
so they could return to the dirt
from which they came.
