Ode to My Socks (Pablo Neruda)

This poem by Pablo Neruda may be the longest poem I have talked about. Perhaps, not in total number of words since each line is only a few words long, but definitely in total length. I first knew it with a different translation and while this one is fine, it lacks an added layer of finish that the other had.

I think the skinniness of these lines is both reminiscent of hand-made socks and the simplicity of the woolen gift.

Can you imagine being Maru Mori and getting this reaction and this praise to your gift? Maru Mori probably just thought, "It's winter. I bet his feet are chilled." This poem expresses N's utter joy at the simple happiness of wool socks in winter, but the gift was (most probably) also given with that same simple observation-->action. In her case, the resultant action was to knit a pair of socks for a neighbor in winter. In his, to write a poem that would stir people generations and continents away. Should I then write a response poem to him, "Ode to Neruda", as a thank you for this beautifully simple and perfect and warming poem?

Favorite line: "resistí/el impulso furioso/de ponerlos/en una jaula/de oro/y darles cada día/alpiste/y pulpa de melón rosado."

Favorite line (in English, better translation): "I resisted/the mad impulse/to put them/in a golden/cage/and each day give them/birdseed/and pieces of pink melon."