The Wind on the Island

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The wind is a horse:
hear how it runs
through the sea, through the sky.

It wants to carry me: listen
how it roves around the world
to take me far away.

Hide me in your arms
just for this night,
while the rain breaks
its innumerable beak
on the earth and the sea.
 
Hear how the wind
comes galloping, calling
to take me far away.

With your forehead upon my forehead,
with your mouth upon my mouth,
our bodies bound
by the love that burns us,
let the wind pass by
without taking me away.

Let the wind rush in
crowned with foam,
let it call me and seek me
galloping through the shadows,
while I, sunk
into your immense eyes,
just for this night,
I shall rest, my love.

*******
✍ Pablo Neruda ( Parral, Chile, 12 July 1904 ~ Santiago, Chile, 23 September 1973).
◙ Artwork: Frederick Varley

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