Ode to Some Yellow Flowers Pablo Neruda


translated by Jodey Bateman


Against the blue moving its own blue,
the sea, and against the sky,
some yellow flowers.

October arrives.

And though it may be
so important for the sea to unroll
its myth, its mission, its yeast-like inspiration,
there explodes
over the sand the gold
of a single yellow plant
and your eyes
are fixed
on the ground,
they flee from the great sea and its rhythms.

We are and will be dust.

Not air, not fire, nor water
but
earth,
only earth
we will be
and maybe also
some yellow flowers.


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