neruda 2

SAME STORY

This evening, each hour, it grows earlier:
each splendor, each shadow,
each twilight, dawns anew on our world:
immovable time
masks
its exigent face
and changelessly changes its garment:
each night or in delicate daybreak
the long silence of glaciers,
summer's reddening apple:
all is vagabond as the wind:
time idles, immobile,
hueless and heatless, sunless and starless:
nothing avails but the absolute.

Goodbye and goodbye. Nothing changes.

STAR

Good enough: so i never returned. I no longer grieve
for a vanished return. All things are resolved by the sand--
and as part of the landscape and waves,
salt syllable or sea louse,
I, sovereign and slave to these shores,
surrender myself, shackle myself to my rock.
No free will for those of us who exist
as a piece of appearances,
no going for those who return
to themselves, to the rock of their singular being:
and the only perduring star is the sea.

by: Pablo Neruda

**still no rain of words, so i am swimming into the sea of the gods instead. i am but a small girl.