Saturday, June 27, 2009

Touchstone: Neruda, Once Again

I want to quote Neruda, if only because this woman he describes, he evokes, he invokes, is such a riddle to me.  An enticing, arousing, provoking riddle: the best kind.   I want to know her, my version of Neruda's her.  Is that such an inappropriate desire?

I offer the translation from Stephen Tapscott.  The original is readily available: Eris Hija Del Mar Y Prima Del Oregano.

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.

Neruda, Pablo.  100 Love Sonnets.  Trans. Stephen Tapscott.  Austin, TX: U of T Press, 2004.