Bird

It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.

When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.

by Pablo Neruda

Comments (15)

I like this poem .it is.very heart touching
nicely observing the bird himself soars high in imagination like a bird to watch all down like a bird...Pablo's another master piece-10
I saw how wings worked!
Pablo Neruda was a poet acutely aware of the dynamic of symbols that help redefine the world around us and our place in it, and his poems often sought to resolve the separation between the self and the natural world. Referencing the elements of earth, air, water, and fire in stunning language, Neruda’s poems are passionately evocative, like the opening stanza of ''Bird''..
he want to fly in the skkkkkkkyyyyyyy
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