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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=389976" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Pablo Neruda</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Again & again<br>I have read your books<br>without ever wishing to know you.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I suck the alphabet of blood.<br> I chew the iron filings of your words.<br> I kiss your images like moist mouths<br> while the black seeds of your syllables<br> fly, fly, fly<br> into my lungs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Untranslated, untranslatable,<br>you are rooted inside me-<br>not you-but the you<br>of your poems:</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> the man of his word,<br> the lover who digs into the alien soil<br> of one North American woman<br> & plants a baby-<br> love-child of Whitman<br> crossed with the Spanish language,<br> embryo, sapling, half-breed<br> of my tongue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I saw you once-<br>your flesh-<br>at Columbia.<br>My alma mater<br>& you the visiting soul.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Buddha-like<br> you sat before a Buddha;<br> & the audience<br> craned its neck<br> to take you in.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Freak show-<br>visiting poet.<br>You sat clothed<br>in your thick<br>imperious flesh.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> I wanted to comfort you<br> & not to stare.<br> Our words knew each other.<br> That was enough.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now you are dead<br>of fascism & cancer-<br>your books scattered,<br>the oil cruet on the floor.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The sea surges through your house<br> at Isla Negra,<br> & the jackboots<br> walk on water.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Poet of cats & grapefruits,<br>of elephant saints;<br>poet of broken dishes<br>& Machu Picchu;<br>poet of panthers<br>& pantheresses;<br>poet of lemons,<br>poet of lemony light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The flies swarm<br> thicker than print on a page,<br> & poetry blackens<br> like overripe bananas.<br> The fascists you hated,<br> the communists you loved,<br> obscure the light, the lemons<br> with their buzzing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We were together<br>on the side of light.<br>We walked together<br>though we never met.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> The eyes are not political,<br> nor the tastebuds,<br> & the flesh tastes salty always<br> like the sea;<br> & the sea<br> turns back the flies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Erica+Jong">Erica Jong</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=389976" data-title="To Pablo Neruda de Erica Jong" data-description="Again & again
I have read your books
without ever wishing to know you.

 I suck the alphabet of blood.
 I chew the iron filings of your words.
 I kiss your images like moist mouths
 while the black seeds of your syllables
 fly, fly, fly
 into my l..."></div>
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