Explore "The Ghost of the Cargo Boat" by Pablo Neruda on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Distance sheltered upon tubes of foam, salt in ritual waves and defined orders, and the smell and murmur of an old ship, of rotten planks and broken tools, and weary machines that howl and weep, pushing the prow, kicking the sides, chewing laments, swallowing, swallowing distances, making a noise of bitter waters upon the bitter waters, moving the ancient ship upon the ancient waters.
Inner vaults, twilight tunnels visited by the intermittent day of the ports: sacks, sacks accumulated by a somber god, like gray animals, round and eyeless, with sweet gray ears, and estimable bellies filled with wheat or copra, sensitive paunches of pregnant women shabbily dressed in gray, patiently waiting in the shadow of a dreary movie house.