![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi27HMcAuBrHT-DrSUS9hpJTzzIi2r3JYER8HJb0QvpUDP5Uclwddwyqy3jRjzTssvvhLeo5TDnozvEZLK5wKU8uZYJejPBISPCVHRJ4iFcrWUW6F4bNTCz4jOTgxAktLE_tsiEKpSYb6E/s280/Wheat-Field-under-Clouded-Sky.jpg)
You Will Remember
You will remember that leaping stream
where sweet aromas rose and trembled,
and sometimes a bird, wearing water
and slowness, its winter feathers.
You will remember those gifts from the earth:
indelible scents, gold clay,
weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,
magical thorns like swords.
You'll remember the bouquet you picked,
shadows and silent water,
bouquet like a foam-covered stone.
That time was like never, and like always.
So we go there, where nothing is waiting;
we find everything waiting there.
- Pablo Neruda
No comments:
Post a Comment