Explore "To the Traveler" by Pablo Neruda on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
These stones aren't sad.
Within them lives gold, they have the seeds of planets, they have bells in their depths, gloves of iron, marriages of time with the amethysts: on the inside laughing with rubies, nourishing themselves from lightning.
Because of this, traveler, pay attention to the hardships of the road, to mysteries on the walls.
I know this at great cost, that all life is not outward nor all death within, and that the age writes letters with water and stone for no one, so that no one knows, so that no one understands anything.