Sunday, June 10, 2012

That Pure Morning Substance

View of Venus crossing the Sun 
from Pu`ukohola Heiau National Historic Site 
—NPS Photo

—Pablo Neruda

Day dawns without debts,
without doubts,
and later
the day changes,
the wheel revolves,
the fire is transfigured.

Nothing is left
of what dawned, the earth consumed itself
grape by grape,
the heart was left without blood,
spring was left without leaves.

Why did all that happen this very day?
Why was it mistaken in its bells?
Or does everything always have to be so?

How to twist, unravel the thread,
keep on pushing the sun back to the shadow,
send back the light until the night
grows big again with day?
May this day be our child,
endless discovery, aura
of time recovered,
conquest of debt and doubt,
so that our life
may simply be
a pure morning substance,
a clear current.



Today's poem was translated from the Spanish by Alastair Reid.