Explore "I Recall the Sea" by Pablo Neruda on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Chilean, have you gone to the sea lately?
Go in my name, wet your hands and raise them and from other lands I'll adore those drops that fall on your face from the infinite water.
I know, I've lived all my sea coast, the heavy sea of the North, of the barrens, to the tempestuous weight of foam in the islands.
I recall the sea, the pocked iron coasts of Coquimbo, the imperious waters of Tralca, the solitary waves of the South, that formed me.
I recall in Puerto Montt or in the islands, at night, or returning along the beach, the boat waiting, and our feet left fire in their tracks, the mysterious flames of a phosphorescent god.
Each footstep was a streak of phosphorus.
We were writing the earth with stars.
And the boat, skimming the sea, shook a branch of marine fire, of glowworms, an innumerable wave of eyes that awakened once and slept again in their abyss.