Ode to Criticism by Pablo Neruda — Read

I wrote five poems: one was green, another a round wheaten loaf, the third was a house, abuilding, the fourth a ring, and the fifth was brief as a lightning flash, and as I wrote it, it branded my reason.

Well, then, men and women came and took my simple materials, breeze, wind, radiance, clay, wood, and with such ordinary things constructed walls, floors, and dreams.