* POEM 7 by PABLO NERUDA *

* POEM 7 by PABLO NERUDA *

Inclined in the afternoon I throw my sad nets
to your oceanic eyes.

There it stretches and burns in the highest bonfire
my loneliness that turns my arms like a castaway.

I make red signals on your absent eyes
They smell like the sea at the edge of a lighthouse.

You only keep darkness, distant female and mine,
from your eyes sometimes emerges the coast of terror.

Inclined in the afternoons I throw my sad nets
to that sea that shakes your ocean eyes.

Night birds peck the first stars
They sparkle like my soul when I love you.

Gallop the night in his somber mare
scattering blue spikes on the field.