And we forget that they are just fantasies, just ideas. Have a beautiful day This is mine, that is yours. It is a fundamental truth: This is my nation, that is yours. But, if I stop and truly look, and avoid the impulse to immediately label what it is I see as a tree, that is when I recognize the immensity of the encounter.
Some eventually get coaxed back to bed, and they turn, smiling, remembering what they already have. We imagine that the constant act of definition-separation-categorization is the same thing as clear seeing. The same for nations. No one can claim the name of Pedro, nobody is Rosa or Maria, all of us are dust or sand, all of us are rain under rain.
But, if I stop and truly look, and avoid the impulse to immediately label what it is I see as a tree, that is when I recognize the immensity of the encounter.
When we learn to stop reflexively naming everything we see, then we actually see it for the first time. I see a majestic being rising from the creekside, growing from its environment, embodying the land that surrounds it, giving the place presence, while patiently watching me to see if I return its gaze.
But where are the days actually divided? Neruda makes this clear by reminding us that they are meaningless at nighttime when we sleep, for that is the only time most people cease dividing up reality. Too Many Names Mondays are meshed with Tuesdays and the week with the whole year.
If these separations and divisions had any actuality, they would continue to exist whether or not we sustained them through mental effort. And he is right. Being the crazy poet that he is, Neruda has discovered something that we are normally too busy to recognize as we endlessly categorize and define.
Granger I love this poem by Neruda. Have a beautiful day… and make it even more beautiful by mixing it up! I know only the skin of the earth and I know it is without a name.
Time lost its shoes.Neruda talks of continuity. The fabric of time is unending and cannot be cut with ‘weary scissors’. He says that the days are blurring together.
He asks why we should have names which are made-up things. None of us really are from any countries which are made-up things, too. Mondays are meshed with Tuesdays and the whole week with the whole year.
Time cannot be cut with your exhausted scissors, and all the names of the day. with so many faltering names, with so many sad formalities, with so many pompous letters, with so much of yours and mine, with so much of signing of papers.
I have a mind to confuse things, unite them, bring them to birth, mix them up, undress them, until the light of the world has the oneness of the ocean, a generous, vast wholeness, a crepitant fragrance.
Oct 17, · Well of course I want things.
Everybody, at least once in their lives, has stayed awake all night thinking about the things they want. Some eventually get coaxed back to bed, and they turn, smiling, remembering what they already have.
The rest of us — well, the rest of us are here. Pacing around the. TOO MANY NAMES CRITICAL APPRECIATION Neruda talks of continuity. The fabric of time is unending and cannot be cut with ‘weary scissors’.
He says that the days are blurring together. Too many Names Summary. In linesNeruda is saying that the days are blurring together. Time is just a wash, bleeding daily into the night. In lines He is saying that, ultimately we do not have names.
Names are made-up things.
None of us really are .Download