poema #20.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. 
Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche esta estrellada, 
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos". 
El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta. 
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche. 
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso. 
En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos. 
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito. 
Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería. 
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos. 
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche...

Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda is one of the two only Chilean Nobel Prize winners (the other being Gabriela Mistral, both in literature) and by many regarded as the greatest Chilean poet of all times. Well, for me he is definitely the greatest, since the joy of understanding something of his poetry is inexplicable. Even more, I allowed myself to pretend to be the intelligent European sitting in the main square, partly listening to charlas, family fights, street musicians and ice-cream sellers, partly gazing at the sun, barely seen through the palm tree leaves (OK, I admit, it's not only palm trees around), and immersing in literature.

Santiago, you surprise me. Right by the always busy and dusty streets, there are immense cathedrals, built in the early years of conquista, awakening a humble admiration of the many altars, all covered by bright flowers, the cathedral itself not even separated by a brick from the conventional buildings; the lush central bazaar-style market is hidden by old-fashioned and empty plastic-covered-tabled diners; a shop sign advertising The Best Clothes In The World contrasts with the tiny shop area illuminated by light bulbs hanging from the ceiling and revealing the piles of old, outworn, colourless stuff, really, surrounded by the poorest single mothers and leg-less vagabonds; the very friendly city tour guide Neil, trying to make me take the hop-on-hop-off bus, contrasts with the furtive glances dodgy and old men throw at single foreign-like girls, making me feel unsafe for the first time during all this anthropological observation of Santiago in action. 

And me, a wannabe intellectual trying to understand the high-end poetry, with a business man wearing a black suit, black sunglasses and perfectly made hair, reading Batman's latest comic book on the bench next to mine.

I lack the vocabulary to describe the charm and attraction the city makes with the busy paseos, a whole area, actually, destined for pedestrians to enjoy ice-cream stalls, lunch in terraces or just a shade from the still burning sun. The sounds, the sights, the aroma, all of it invites me further.

Since I'm still not allowed to take photos alone, here's a unicorn for you.

By the way, I still like chocolate, silly magazines and lovely letters. Send them to:

Condominio Casa Grande

Alerce Andino Sur 8976

Peñalolen, Santiago

Chile

That's it for now!