Morning by Pablo Neruda

The very beautiful and perhaps most famous of Neruda’s shorter works.

Naked you are simple as one of your hands;
Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round.
You’ve moon-lines, apple pathways
Naked you are slender as a naked grain of wheat. 

Naked you are blue as a night in Cuba;
You’ve vines and stars in your hair.
Naked you are spacious and yellow
As summer in a golden church.

Naked you are tiny as one of your nails;
Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
And you withdraw to the underground world.

As if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores;
Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again.

 

I had the good fortune of having a very beautiful copy of Neruda’s 100 sonnets in Spanish and Italian – and had the even better fortune of being able to give it to a friend who enjoyed them as much as I did.

Allende’s homeboy – Orpheus of Il Postino – Grande NERUDA!

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