{"id":47464,"date":"2021-06-16T12:07:55","date_gmt":"2021-06-16T12:07:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/dev6.blazedream.in\/ICSF\/samudra\/close-and-credits-15"},"modified":"2021-08-18T09:45:30","modified_gmt":"2021-08-18T09:45:30","slug":"close-and-credits-15","status":"publish","type":"samudra","link":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/samudra\/close-and-credits-15\/","title":{"rendered":"Close and Credits"},"content":{"rendered":"

Nothing But Death<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

There are cemeteries that are lonely,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

graves full of bones that do not make a sound,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

the heart moving through a tunnel,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

in it darkness, darkness, darkness,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

as though we were drowning inside our hearts,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

And there are corpses,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

feet made of cold and sticky clay,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

death is inside the bones,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

like a barking where there are no dogs,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

growing in the damp air like tears of rain.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Sometimes I see alone<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

coffins under sail,embarking with the pale dead,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

with women that have dead hair,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

with bakers who are as white as angels,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

and pensive young girls married to notary publics,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

the river of dark purple,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

filled by the sound of death which is silence.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Death arrives among all that sound<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

with no finger in it,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

comes and shouts with no mouth,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

with no tongue, with no throat.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Nevertheless its steps can be heard<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

I’m not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

of violets that are at home in the earth,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

because the face of death is green,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

and the look death gives is green,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

and the somber color of embittered winter.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

death is inside the broom,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

it is the needle of death looking for thread.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Death is inside the folding cots:<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

and the beds go sailing toward a port<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

by <\/i>Pablo Neruda<\/strong>, translated by <\/i>Robert Bly<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Nothing But Death There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though we were drowning inside our hearts, as though we lived falling out of the skin […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"template":"","meta":[],"tags":[],"region":[],"source":[],"country":[],"state":[],"city":[],"samudra_category":[5309],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/samudra\/47464"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/samudra"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/samudra"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=47464"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=47464"},{"taxonomy":"region","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/region?post=47464"},{"taxonomy":"source","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/source?post=47464"},{"taxonomy":"country","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/country?post=47464"},{"taxonomy":"state","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/state?post=47464"},{"taxonomy":"city","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/city?post=47464"},{"taxonomy":"samudra_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.icsf.net\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/samudra_category?post=47464"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}