"The Well" By Pablo Neruda At times you sink, you fall into your hole of silence, into your abyss of proud anger, and you can scarcely return, still bearing remnants of what you found in the depth of your existence. My love, what do you find in your closed well? Seaweed, swamps, rocks? What do you see with blind eyes, bitter and wounded? Darling, you will not find in the well into which you fall what I keep for you on the heights: a bouquet of dewy jasmines, a kiss deeper than your abyss. Do not fear me, do not fall into your rancor again. Shake off my word that came to wound you and let it fly through the open window. It will return to wound without your guiding it since it was laden with a harsh instant and that instant will be disarmed in my breast. |