Explore "Paraguay" by Pablo Neruda on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Unbridled Paraguay!
What was the purpose of the pure moon illuminating golden geometry's papers?
To what avail was the knowledge inherited from the columns and the solemn numbers?
For this hole swamped with rotten blood, for this equinoctial liver seized by death.
For monarchic Moriñigo, enthroned upon prisons in his pool of kerosene, while the electric hummingbirds' scarlet plumes hover and glow above the humble corpses in the jungle.
Bleak year, year of blighted roses, year of carbines-look down with your eyes, don't be blinded by the airplane's aluminum, the music of its dry sonorous speed-look at your bread, your land, your torn masses, your battered lineage!
Do you see that green and ashen valley from the lofty sky?
Pale agriculture, tattered mining, silence and weeping like wheat, falling and rising in a malevolent eternity.