Cold Day, Warm Poem

Those of us in Bend woke up to more than an inch of snow on the ground this morning. Yep, on the eighth of April we woke up to snow, when in many other places the only white on the trees comes from the spring blossoms. So, we're sharing a warm poem. It's a Neruda poem, so the warmth comes from the author's love heat ;-)

Te recuerdo como eras (I Remember You as You Were)

by Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

I remember you as you were in the last autumn.
You were the grey beret and the still heart.
In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on.
And the leaves fell in the water of your soul.

Clasping my arms like a climbing plant
the leaves garnered your voice, that was slow and at peace.
Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning.
Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul.

I feel your eyes traveling, and the autumn is far off:
grey beret, voice of a bird, heart like a house
towards which my deep longings migrated
and my kisses fell, happy as embers.

Sky from a ship. Field from the hills:
Your memory is made of light, of smoke, of a still pond!
Beyond your eyes, farther on, the evenings were blazing.
Dry autumn leaves revolved in your soul.