Climbing vines murmured as we passed.
The gray stones knew us - the wind
in the shadow. Between you and me
a new door opened.
All that we learned was of no use:
we emerged from the ocean
as if from the shipwreck we returned.
Everything carries me to you:
aromas, light, metals,
boats filled from within with black light,
there too I would like to let my blood sleep
against the devil's webs,
against organized misery.
You have seen the same sky each day,
the same dark winter mud, the endless branching
of the plum trees and their dark-purple sweetness.
Night has fallen for you.
Perhaps at dawn we shall see each other again.
Cento Source Text: The Captain's Verses Pablo Neruda , 1952
Image: Fisherman at Sea by William Turner