Explore "Yevtushenko is a lunatic" by Pablo Neruda on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Yevtushenko is a lunatic, a clown- so people say with tight mouth.
Come, Yevtushenko!
Let's not talk any more, since before birth we already said everything there is to say.
In your poetry there are fresh rays of moonlight, electronic petals, locomotives, tears, and, every so often, a welcome!
Arriba! Abajo!
Your pirouettes, your high-minded acrobatics- why shouldn't you be a clown?
We need another Napoleon in the world-a battleground clown, lost later on in the snow; a Picasso-a cosmic clown, dancing on the altars where miracles are performed; and a Columbus-the rueful clown, humiliated, clueless, who found us centuries since.
Only the poet won't be left alone.
They want to take his pirouettes away, his mortal jump.
Adelante, Yevtushenko!
I'll protect you against the new Philistines.
Let the circus admire our own dexterity, our sadness, the pleasure to be found in playing with light, so that truth may thunder between shadows.
Hurrah!
Turn on the lights,
Let's be onstage, the audience will witness two joyful birds ready to mourn humanity.