I don't believe in age.
All old people
carry
in their eyes,
a child,
and children,
at times
observe us with the
eyes of wise ancients.
Shall we measure
life
in meters or kilometers
or months?
How far since you were born?
How long
must you wander
until
like all men
instead of walking on its surface
we rest below the earth?
To the man, to the woman
who utilized their
energies, goodness, strength,
anger, love, tenderness,
to those who truly
alive
flowered,
and in their sensuality matured,
let us not apply
the measure
of a time
that may be
something else, a mineral
mantle, a solar
bird, a flower,
something, maybe,
but not a measure.
Time, metal
or bird, long
petiolate flower,
stretch
through
man's life,
shower him
with blossoms
and with
bright
water
or with hidden sun.
I proclaim you
road,
not shroud,
a pristine
ladder
with treads
of air,
a suit lovingly
renewed
through springtimes
around the world.
Now,
time, I roll you up,
I deposit you in my
bait box
and I am off to fish
with your long line
the fishes of the dawn!
translated from the Spanish by Margaret Sayers Peden
I don't believe in age. All old people carry in their eyes, a child, and children, at times observe us with the eyes of wise ancients...the poem ens there...the rest seems to be its aggrandizement...an excellent poem- 10
Shall we measure life in meters or kilometers or months? How far since you were born? How long these lines are as like the words of poet kalil Gibran what is this life? a minute in infinity in tamil இந்த வாழ்க்கை என்பது என்ன? முடிவின்மையில் ஒரு நொடிதானே?
A poem well built with poetic calibre, deep introspection and humane approach to the human life with reference to age, a relative factor. Thanks poet.
Now, time, I roll you up, I deposit you in my bait box and I am off to fish with your long line the fishes of the dawn! fishes of the dawn, fine expressions. tony
How far since you were born? How long must you wander until like all men instead of walking on its surface we rest below the earth? Beatiful, simply beautiful. tony
Who can write like Neruda! Maybe my daughter Joyce! She’s OUR poet extrodinaire, ❤️😇
Interesting, how come nobody's commented on this great poem! !