Pablo Neruda as a young man
~ source Wikipedia
The light that rises from your feet to your hair,
the strength enfolding your delicate form,
are not mother of pearl, not chilly silver:
you are made of bread, a bread the fire adores.
The grain grew high in its harvest of you,
in good time the flour swelled;
as the dough rose, doubling your breasts,
my love was the coal waiting ready in the earth.
Oh, bread your forehead, your legs, your mouth,
bread I devour, born with the morning light,
my love, beacon-flag of the bakeries:
fire taugh you a lesson of the blood;
you learned your holiness from flour,
from bread your language and aroma.
Love Sonnets (1894) Marie Spartali Stillman
I love the poetry of Pablo Neruda. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s that everything external disappears and you are drawn into the beautiful details of his words ….. the body, nature, a mingling of the physical with the abstract. For a moment he allows you to step into another world, a world of time past, and you savour your time there.
In this poem, the contrast of cold mother of pearl and chilly silver with warm bread. Bread is nourishing. It’s whole process from grain to flour to bread is something to be wondered at and reverenced. It is comforting.
I don’t really like the term “beacon-flag of the bakeries”. It jars me out of the feeling the poem envokes but that could be the fault of the translator and nothing to do with Neruda.
Woman Baking Bread (1854) Jean-Francois Millet ~ source Wikiart
Neruda uses bread to describe or emphasize the woman’s physical form in a warm, familiar sort of way, as everyone is initimately familiar with bread. She is compared to a source of nourishment and in his “eating” her, the two can become one.
Another poem by Pablo Neruda: Here I Love You (Aquí Te Amo)
