PoemThe Eighth Of September
Author / PoetPablo Neruda
TagsEarth, September

This day, Today, was a brimming glass.
This day, Today, was an immense wave.
This day was all the Earth.
This day, the storm-driven ocean
lifted us up in a kiss
so exalted we trembled
at the lightning flash
and bound as one, fell,
and drowned, without being unbound.
This day our bodies grew
stretched out to Earth’s limits,
orbited there, melded there
to one globe of wax, or a meteor’s flame.
A strange door opened, between us,
and someone, with no face as yet,
waited for us there.

Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda
12 Jul 1904 - 23 Sep 1973
Region: South America
Period: Modernist
Movement: Modernism, Surrealism
Awards: International Peace Prize, Nobel Prize in Literature, Stalin Peace Prize

more poems by Pablo Neruda

Poem NameTopic
There Where The Waves ShatterRocks
PotterLove, Potter, River
Leave Me A Place UndergroundAlone, Labyrinth, Survive
Here I Love YouLove, Soul
The Old Women Of The OceanAlone, Ocean, Sea
The Men
Don’T Go Far Off
Your Laughter
A Dog Has Died
A Song Of Despair

all poems by Pablo Neruda

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *