Drunk with Pines

by Pablo Neruda

Drunk with pines and long kisses
Like summer I steer the first sail of the roses
But towards the death of the thin day,
Stock into my solid marine madness

Pale and lash into my ravenous water,
I cruise in the sour smell of the naked climate,
Still dressed in gray and bitter sounds
And a sad crest of abandoned spring.

Hardened by passion, I go mounted on my one wave,
Lunar, solar, burning and cold, all at once,
Be calmed in the throat of the fortunate isles
That are white and sweet as cool lips.

In the moist night my garment of kisses trembles
Changed to insanity with electric currents,
Heroically divided into dreams
And intoxicating roses practicing on me.

Upstream, in the midst of the outer waves,
Your parallel body yields to my arms
Like a fish infinitely fastened to my soul,
Quick and slow, in the energy under the sky.


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note: erm, need I say more? Strange how sometimes one comes across a poet not of his generation having the same thoughts and emotions.

"He was once referred as the Picasso of poetry, alluding to his protean ability to be always in the vanguard of change. And he himself has often alluded to his personal struggle with his own tradition, to his constant need to search for a new system in each book." (Rene de Costa in The Poetry of Pablo Neruda, 1979)