
What the soul is to the body, so is the artist to his people
These are the lines on the tomb of Gabriela Mistral arguably one of the greatest Latin American poet. Gabriela Mistral (1889-1957) was born in n’t live in a world where poetry can make people famous. On a second thought who really want to be famous in this muck. It is a disgrace to be famous). The story of a village teacher becoming a poet and later having a significant influence on reforming education system of not only
Let us go now into the forest.
Trees will pass by your face,
and I will stop and offer you to them,
but they cannot bend down.
The night watches over its creatures,
except for the pine trees that never change:
the old wounded springs that spring
blessed gum, eternal afternoons.
If they could, the trees would lift you
and carry you from valley to valley,
and you would pass from arm to arm,
a child running
from father to father.
I loved this line “if they could trees would lift you and carry you from valley to valley”. Quite evocative. This line from “Death Sonnet”
No hand will reach into the obscure depth
to argue with me over your handful of bones
This line from “Dusk”
and I feel my life fleeing
hushed and gentle like the gazelle.
Mistral was unfortunate for her teen aged son suicides. This from “Sad Mother”
Sleep, sleep, my beloved,
without worry, without fear,
although my soul does not sleep,
although I do not rest.
Sleep, sleep, and in the night
may your whispers be softer
than a leaf of grass,
or the silken fleece of lambs.
May my flesh slumber in you,
my worry, my trembling.
In you, may my eyes close
and my heart sleep.
