Ode To Sadness

Sadness, scarab
with seven crippled feet,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,
bitch's skeleton:
No entry here.
Don't come in.
Go away.
Go back
south with your umbrella,
go back
north with your serpent's teeth.
A poet lives here.
No sadness may
cross this threshold.
Through these windows
comes the breath of the world,
fresh red roses,
flags embroidered with
the victories of the people.
No.
No entry.
Flap
your bat's wings,
I will trample the feathers
that fall from your mantle,
I will sweep the bits and pieces
of your carcass to
the four corners of the wind,
I will wring your neck,
I will stitch your eyelids shut,
I will sew your shroud,
sadness, and bury your rodent bones
beneath the springtime of an apple tree.

by Pablo Neruda

Comments (6)

His pen is like the axe in the hand of an able lumberjack, swiftly sweeping through the hardened bark of stress from the monotony of an ordinary life.
Breathtaking is the image i see as i read thru the words u write! marvellous is the word in which the above lets me roam thumbs up! ! ! ! !
Marvellous - I adore Neruda- this poem is not about sadness, it's about the refusal of sadness to enter the world created by the poet, who dreams of the colors and smells outside his hermit cave, and refuses the sadness and agony of his country's terrible scars. It's a strong rebelion against political power, not permiting the poet's word to be heard. He deserved the Nobel Prize, and I admire his bravery. Panmelys
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
excellent poetry...i love it from both ends.. bravo Neruda
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