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PabloNeruda

Ode To My Socks - Poem by Pablo Neruda

Mara Mori brought mea pair of sockswhich she knitted herselfwith her sheepherder's hands,two socks as soft as rabbits.I slipped my feet into themas if they were two casesknitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,Violent socks,my feet were two fish made of wool,two long sharkssea blue, shot throughby one golden thread,two immense blackbirds,two cannons,my feet were honored in this wayby these heavenly socks.They were so handsome for the first timemy feet seemed to me unacceptablelike two decrepit firemen,firemen unworthy of that woven fire,of those glowing socks.

Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptationto save them somewhere as schoolboyskeep fireflies,as learned men collectsacred texts,I resisted the mad impulse to put themin a golden cage and each day give thembirdseed and pieces of pink melon.Like explorers in the junglewho hand over the very rare green deerto the spit and eat it with remorse,I stretched out my feet and pulled onthe magnificent socks and then my shoes.

The moral of my ode is this:beauty is twice beautyand what is good is doubly goodwhen it is a matter of two socksmade of wool in winter.

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