Die geheimen Tagebücher von einer verderbten Existenz

Behind these gates you will hear my thoughts screaming like nerves under the sun and feel my emotion laughing to the empty ether.
Welcome Dear Wanderer, make yourself at home.
The road is long and tortuous and I hope you enjoy yourself.

Fraternally Yours,
Poison Creeper

Saturday, 29 December 2012

The Body Of a Woman


Pablo Neruda (1904 - 1973) 
Body of a Woman 



Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs,
you look like a world, lying in surrender.
My rough peasant's body digs in you
and makes the son leap from the depth of the earth.



I was lone like a tunnel. The birds fled from me,
and nigh swamped me with its crushing invasion.
To survive myself I forged you like a weapon,
like an arrow in my bow, a stone in my sling.



But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
Body of skin, of moss, of eager and firm milk.
Oh the goblets of the breast! Oh the eyes of absence!
Oh the roses of the pubis! Oh your voice, slow and sad!



Body of my woman, I will persist in your grace.
My thirst, my boundless desire, my shifting road!
Dark river-beds where the eternal thirst flows
and weariness follows, and the infinite ache.














No comments: