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Poem 7

Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets

towards your oceanic eyes.

 

There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,

its arms turning like a drowning man's.

 

I send out red signals across your absent eyes

that move like the sea near a lighthouse.

 

You keep only darkness, my distant female,

from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.

 

Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets

to that sea that beats on your marine eyes.

 

The birds of night peck at the first stars

that flash like my soul when I love you.

 

The night gallops on its shadowy mare

shedding blue tassels over the land.

 

Pablo Neruda

 

 

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Uploaded on January 3, 2022
Taken on April 30, 2025