When your hands leap
towards mine, love,
what do they bring me in flight?
Why did they stop
at my lips, so suddenly,
why do I know them,
as if once before,
I have touched them,
as if, before being,
they travelled
my forehead, my waist?
Their smoothness came
winging through time,
over the sea and the smoke,
over the Spring,
and when you laid
your hands on my chest
I knew those wings
of the gold doves,
I knew that clay,
and that colour of grain.
The years of my life
have been roadways of searching,
a climbing of stairs,
a crossing of reefs.
Trains hurled me onwards
waters recalled me,
on the surface of grapes
it seemed that I touched you.
Wood, of a sudden,
made contact with you,
the almond-tree summoned
your hidden smoothness,
until both your hands
closed on my chest,
like a pair of wings
ending their flight.
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Translation option
From guest Laura (contact)
From the Spanish, I would like to offer the following suggestions for translation: line 18, 20, change from "knew" to "recognized." More importantly, line 23, from "have been roadways of searching" to "I walked around looking for them." Likewise, lines 30-31, make more sense when read "the wood suddenly brought me your touch." I love this poem and know it by heart in the original language... hopefully, this may shed a different light on the poem
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Beautiful poetry. Neruda's poems abut hands are some of the greatest there is. Each time I read him, I learn...
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Love this!
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