Ode to Sadness
Sadness, scarab
with seven crippled feet,
spiderweb egg,
scramble-brained rat,
bitchs skeleton:
ry here.
Dont e in.
Go away.
Go back
south with your umbrella,
go back
north with your serpents teeth.
A poet lives here.
No sadness may
cross this threshold.
Through these windows
es the breath of the world,
fresh red roses,
flags embroidered with
the victories of the people.
No.
ry.
Flap
your bats wings,
I will trample the feathers
that fall from your mantle,
I will sweep the bits and pieces
of your carcass to
the four ers of the wind,
I will wring your neck,
I will stitch your eyelids shut,
I will sew your shroud,
sadness, and bury your rodent bones
beh the springtime of an apple tree.
Pablo Neruda