chestnuts

Here come the chestnuts ..

Here come the chestnuts

© Odilia Liuzzi Photography

Here come the chestnuts .. and also the first real autumn chill. Today the landscape looks almost as good as if all this coolness soften the fruit, the air, the colors and objects. Today it’s cold but the sun is shining and that’s enough to make this day magical. The leaves on the lawn seem golden and all around is a real magic .. the magic of Autumn..

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Chestnut on the Ground – Pablo Neruda

chestnut_on_the_ground

© Odilia Liuzzi Photography

I have always found this poem about chestnuts is fantastic. Only Neruda is able to convey emotions as if they were written in a painting. You do not know it ? Here it is..

From bristly foliage
you fell
complete, polished wood, gleaming mahogany,
as perfect
as a violin newly
born of the treetops,
that falling
offers its sealed-in gifts,
the hidden sweetness
that grew in secret
amid birds and leaves,
a model of form,
kin to wood and flour,
an oval instrument
that holds within it
intact delight, an edible rose.
In the heights you abandoned
the sea-urchin burr
that parted its spines
in the light of the chestnut tree;
through that slit
you glimpsed the world,
birds
bursting with syllables,
starry
dew
below,
the heads of boys
and girls,
grasses stirring restlessly,
smoke rising, rising.
You made your decision,
chestnut, and leaped to earth,
burnished and ready,
firm and smooth
as the small breasts
of the islands of America.
You fell,
you struck
the ground,
but
nothing happened,
the grass
still stirred, the old
chestnut sighed with the mouths
of a forest of trees,
a red leaf of autumn fell,
resolutely, the hours marched on
across the earth.
Because you are
only
a seed,
chestnut tree, autumn, earth,
water, heights, silence
prepared the germ,
the floury density,
the maternal eyelids
that buried will again
open toward the heights
the simple majesty of foliage,
the dark damp plan
of new roots,
the ancient but new dimensions
of another chestnut tree in the earth.

 

Pablo Neruda