Ode To The Onion (Pablo Neruda)

I was listening to Marketplace on NPR the other day, when this story about an onion shortage came on. The story started with a nod to Pablo Neruda's 'Ode To The Onion'. I had never heard that poem before, so I simply had to look it up.

The copy that I found doesn't cite who translated it, but I wish it had been done better. For instance, at the end, the word "crystalline" really seemed out of place. Meh.

The simplicity of the poem's language nicely mirrors the simple nature of the onion - a cooking staple. But like how an onion adds such depth and taste to a sauce, the descriptions of this simple plant are almost over the top in their comparisons. It's described as "a planet", "the miracle" and " destined to shine".

A tad too enthusiastic for me, but it is an ode (which I know he's written a number of to various mundane things). It seems to be advice to see the wonder, the marvelousness of even ordinary objects.

Okay, Pablo Neruda, I can get behind that sentiment.

Favorite line: "Onion, / luminous flask"

Ode to Ironing (Pablo Neruda)

I was hoping for a bit of humor from this poem by Pablo Neruda. Not a guffaw or anything, but I was expecting something to make me smile (I mean, an ode to ironing??). Instead, this poem is very serious, very calm and instructive.

Or at least, I think so. The poem seems to say - poetry is good. The earth needs work (needs to be ironed out). The daily 'ironing'/the fixing of the earth is what defines poetry. Maybe then this is a sort of ars poetica? It gives a definition of the art, at least.

Any way, a fine poem, but I guess I wanted more lilt. What do you think of it?

Favorite line: "the sea's whiteness has to be ironed out"

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."