The Poetry of Pablo Neruda

by Pablo Neruda

Body of woman, white hills, white thighs, you look like the world in your posture of surrender. My savage peasant body digs through you and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.

I went alone as a tunnel. Birds fled from me, and night invaded me with her powerful force. To survive myself I forged you like a weapon, like an arrow in my bow, like a stone in my sling. But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you. Body of skin, of moss, of avid, steady milk. Ah the goblets of the breasts! Ah the eyes of absence! Ah the roses of the pubis! Ah your voice slow and sad!

...the hour of vengeance falls, / and Iove you...

alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead