This is another request from my ‘Dommes don’t speak, they rawwwr’ post by Peroxide, who doesn’t even really like poetry, but requested that I read Sonnet XI, by Pablo Neruda, which I have posted previously.
I love quite a few of Neruda’s poems; his passion and beautiful turn of phrase is compelling.
Enjoy.
—
Sonnet XI, by Pablo Neruda
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
—
This recording courtesy of a request by:
– Peroxide
23 comments
Wow. I got shivers.
Isn’t it only fair now that You get to pick out poetry for Peroxide to read on his blog? (Is this how internet memes get started…Poetry Wednesday, anyone?)
‘Shivers’ is a perfectly perfect reaction, thank you!
“Isn’t it only fair now that You get to pick out poetry for Peroxide to read on his blog?”
*smile* I shall harass him from now until the end of time for this!
Ferns
Incidentally, can I request You read a different poem? Something that starts out, “There once was a man from Nantucket…”?
*laugh* I would totally have done this, but you missed your chance!!
Oh, Peroxiiiidddeee!!!
Ferns
Absolutely wonderful!… Great poem and well done.
Just another reason why your blog is one of the first places I check each morning before I go to work. I never know what gems I am going to find.
Awww, thank you. I’m delighted that I could start your day off with something that you found ‘absolutely wonderful’!
Ferns
Ooh thank-you so much! That was magnificent, if poetry always sounded like that I could develop a real appreciation for it.
‘Magnificent’ is a word I have always aspired to have applied to me in any way, shape, or form, so this makes me uber happy!
Also, poetry is *awesome*!! I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
And you’re welcome.
Ferns
Pablo Neruda himself would crave your mouth, your voice and the unmistakable cadence of your undiluted spirit reading this sonnet. I do. Thank you, dear Ferns.
*smile* Thank you so much for the totally lovely compliment! And you are very welcome.
*takes a bow*
Ferns
Strewth that’s proper bonza sheila, stone the flamin’ crows
Coug
*laugh* No worries, cobba!
Ferns
By the ravenous teeth that have smitten
Through the kisses that blossom and bud,
By the lips intertwisted and bitten
Till the foam has a savour of blood,
By the pulse as it rises and falters,
By the hands as they slacken and strain,
I adjure thee, respond from thine altars,
Our Lady of Pain.
If only I were a poet.
This is Swinburne
*smile* That’s a lovely one, Eric. I’ve not read it before, thank you for it.
Ferns
Ferns, that must be due to a defect in my character. I can hardly believe I’ve neglected to introduce you to the mystic and somber Dolores, Our Lady of Pain.
It is a minor defect, Eric, and both Dolores and I will forgive you for it.
Ferns
Entrancing! Neruda is smiling from above.
Having a vision of you sipping wine and reading this to your boy bound on the bed… *smiles*
“Having a vision of you sipping wine and reading this to your boy bound on the bed… ”
*smile* That sounds perfectly lovely.
Ferns
1. I love your voice.
2. Is it just me who thinks that the colours of her hands and nails are wrong? No woman wants me to compare her hands to a savage harvest. No woman wants me to compare her nails to pale stones. It is rather the other way around.
Satan
1. Thank you!
2. *smile* When you write like Pablo Neruda, I think poetic license gives you quite a bit of leeway…
Ferns
Thank you Ferns,
Pablo says…
“…I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails…”
I changed my mind about those colours. For now I just tell myself that all colours can look odd in the dark twilight close to the end of the day.
S.