GUest poem sent in by singh_abs2000
(Poem #1271) Poetry
And it was at that age...Poetry arrived in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don't know how or when, no, they were not voices, they were not words, nor silence, but from a street I was summoned, from the branches of night, abruptly from the others, among violent fires or returning alone, there I was without a face and it touched me. I did not know what to say, my mouth had no way with names my eyes were blind, and something started in my soul, fever or forgotten wings, and I made my own way, deciphering that fire and I wrote the first faint line, faint, without substance, pure nonsense, pure wisdom of someone who knows nothing, and suddenly I saw the heavens unfastened and open, planets, palpitating planations, shadow perforated, riddled with arrows, fire and flowers, the winding night, the universe. And I, infinitesmal being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, I felt myself a pure part of the abyss, I wheeled with the stars, my heart broke free on the open sky.
This was my first Neruda Poem (ok I admit I was introduced to him through the film 'Il Postino' (Great Movie, Must watch!) ). And when I heard it, I could feel the tips of my forgotten wings quiver! Neruda is such a passionate poet...but his passion is earthy, and gentle, yet so...immediate. With this passion he can recreate the most primeval of human emotions. Like the 'encounter' with poetry... Somehow, reading this poem brings images of Van Gogh to my mind. Images - the heavens unfastened, palpitating planations, shadow perforated (love that one!), winding night, the universe...wheeling with the stars, hearts broken free on the open sky. What Van Gogh did with paint in the 'Starry Night', Neruda does with words in 'Poetry'. By the way It would be great if we could get the original spanish for this, too! Finally I feel that this poem is particularly apt for the 'Minstrels', since it captures something that is shared by all of us here...the tug of poetry, fervid summons of the messiah that lets the disciples loose, freewheeling in the open skies!