April 1: La Poesia

In honor of National Poetry Month, I’m going to post a picture that I think best expresses the poem shown below.

there was I without a face/and it touched me (91/365.2)

La Poesia/ Poetry

And it was at that age…Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don’t know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

— Pablo Neruda
(more follows here)

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