Neruda: Sixty Selected Poems

I rise, to tread the grass,
enter poetry,
consider through the windows,
the things,
the men, the women,
the deeds and the fights
go on forming me,
go on making me face things
working my hands,
opening my eyes

All will be gone, you will live on,

You ignite life.

You made what is yours

I was always a little less knowing
and so little was my knowledge
that I learned wisdom.