— Inspired by the poem "Enigmas, from Canto General" by Pablo Neruda
Translated by A.S. Kline
We weave rough nets to catch what wind or water
might release into our open hands,
tie elaborate knots to try and capture what can never be caught,
only admired from a distance too pure for us to fathom or respect.
Resonant with too many dead and dying things,
we seek newer life to charge us with responsibility and purpose;
we cannot barter for more time than we are given,
so we spend it in frugal pursuits and foolish raptures,
digging laughter from deep within our throats, casting our frail shadows
into sunlit meadows without proper regard for its rightful tenants.
Our fingers, blistered and trembling, know secrets
our hearts cannot accept or endure.