<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body dir="auto"><div><span></span></div><div><div dir="ltr"><div class="gmail_default"><p align="CENTER" style="text-align: left; margin-bottom: 0in;"><font>The Poet's Task</font></p><p align="CENTER" style="text-align: left; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Whoever isn't listening to the sea this Friday morning,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">whoever is trapped inside some</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">house, office, factory---or mistress</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">or street corner or coal mine or solitary confinement:</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">to that person I make my way and without speaking or nodding come up and spring open the cage; and something begins to hum, faint but insistent; a great snapped-off clap of thunder harnesses itself to the weight of the planet and the foam; the hoarse rivers of the ocean rise up, a star shimmers and trills in its rose window, and the sea stumbles, falls, and continues on its way.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Then, with destiny as my pilot,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I will listen and listen harder to keep alive</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">in my memory the sea's outcry.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I must feel the impact of solid water</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and save it in a cup outside of time</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">so that wherever anyone may be imprisoned,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">wherever anyone is made to suffer in the dying year,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I will be there, whispering in the ceaseless tides.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I will drift through open windows,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">and, hearing me, eyes will glance upward</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">saying, How can we get to the ocean?</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And, without answering, I will pass on</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">the collapse of foam and liquid sand,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">the salty kiss of withdrawal,</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">the gray keening of birds on the shore.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And so, through me, freedom and the sea</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">will bring solace to the downcast heart.</p></div></div><div class="gmail_extra"><br><div class="gmail_quote"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Pablo Neruda</div><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>(translated from the Spanish by Alfred Corn)</p><div><font face="Georgia"><br></font></div></div></div></body></html>