Sonnet 52

You sing to the sun and to the sky with your song

your voice shells the cereal of the day,

the pines speak with their green tongue:

All the winter birds sing.

 

The sea fills its cellars with footsteps,

of bells, chains and moans,

metal and utensils tinkle,

the wheels of the caravan sound.

 

But only your voice I hear and it goes up

your voice with flight and arrow precision,

lower your voice with the gravity of rain,

your voice scatters lofty swords,

your voice becomes loaded with violets

and then accompanies me through the sky.

 

Pablo Neruda

 

Luane's World - Le Monde Perdu - Spring 2022 , Le Monde Perdu (56, 223, 31) - Moderado

maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Le%20Monde%20Perdu/57/223/31

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