Tuesday, April 24, 2007
'And it was at that age... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I dont know, I dont know where
it came from, winter or a river.
I dont know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
but from a street i was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there i was without a face
and it touched me.'
- from Neruda's 'Poetry'.
It came the same way for me, from unknown, from known, and i dont know from where else...