"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

06 August 2014

Deep.

Bouguereau, Flora And Zephyr (detail), 1875


Ah vastness of pines, murmur of waves breaking,

slow play of lights, solitary bell,

twilight falling in your eyes, toy doll,

earth-shell, in whom the earth sings!

In you the rivers sing and my soul flees in them

as you desire, and you send it where you will.

Aim my road on your bow of hope

and in a frenzy I will flee my flock of arrows.

On all sides I see your waist of fog,

and your silence hunts down my afflicted hours;

my kisses anchor, and my moist desire nests

in your arms of transparent stone.

Ah your mysterious voice that love tolls and darkens

in the resonant and dying evening!

Thus in the deep hours I have seen, over the fields,

the ears of wheat tolling in the mouth of the wind.

Pablo Neruda

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