Posted by Claudia Moser on 8:59 PM in , , ,
‘O Southern Cross, O clover of scented phosphorus,’
LXXXVI From: ‘Cien sonetos de amor’
by Pablo Neruda

O Southern Cross, O clover of scented phosphorus,
with four kisses this day penetrated your beauty
and traversed my hat and the shadows:
the moon went turning round a coldness.

Then, with my love, and my beloved, oh diamonds
of blue frost, serenity of Heaven,
mirror, you appeared, and night filled itself
with your four vaults of trembling wine.

O palpitating silver of fish, pure and polished,
emerald cross, parsley of the radiant shadows,
glow-worm nailed to the unity of Heaven,

rest in me, let us close our eyes, yours and mine.
Sleep with Man’s darkness for an instant.
Light, inside me, your four constellated numbers.

P.S. This post is written under the inspiration coming from The Writers' Post, with the theme serenity



I learned some of Neruda's poetry in college and loved it. His work is amazing. This is beautiful!

@Belle - he is indeed a gifted poet, always very inspirational!

Absolutely beautiful. I had never heard of Neruda before, so thank you for sharing this. Loved the video as well.

@Diane - I am happy that my taste in poetry is appreciated! And yes the jazz piece is great, old music from the 30s!

Very cool. thank you

Claudia...I've been MIA for a bit...wondering if Peter is out of the hospital and on the mend?

Thanks for all the kind words while my Sweetheart was under the weather...


@Humor - glad you liked it!
@Sush - I am so happy your husband is better, mine as well, he is home now!

This was really beautiful. I had to read the poem twice. Amazing. Thanks for hopping along :)

@Jenn - always :) and yes it is a lovely poem!

That was lovely.

I really liked it.

So glad to read that Peter is home and well.


@Fiona - thank you, all is well :)

@Kathy - indeed!

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Thank you for your comments, I appreciate them all!


"A story is not like a road to follow … it's more like a house. You go inside and stay there for a while, wandering back and forth and settling where you like and discovering how the room and corridors relate to each other, how the world outside is altered by being viewed from these windows. And you, the visitor, the reader, are altered as well by being in this enclosed space, whether it is ample and easy or full of crooked turns, or sparsely or opulently furnished. You can go back again and again, and the house, the story, always contains more than you saw the last time. It also has a sturdy sense of itself of being built out of its own necessity, not just to shelter or beguile you."
by Alice Munro

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