{"id":209579,"date":"2019-01-16T06:04:16","date_gmt":"2019-01-16T04:04:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/?p=209579"},"modified":"2018-06-08T12:14:39","modified_gmt":"2018-06-08T10:14:39","slug":"explaining-a-few-things","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/explaining-a-few-things\/","title":{"rendered":"I\u2019m explaining a few things"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/spain-in-our-hearts.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"355\" height=\"525\" class=\"aligncenter wp-image-209581 size-full\" title=\"explaining a few things\" src=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/spain-in-our-hearts.jpg\" alt=\"explaining a few things\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/spain-in-our-hearts.jpg 355w, https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/06\/spain-in-our-hearts-203x300.jpg 203w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 355px) 100vw, 355px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?<br \/>\nand the poppy-petalled metaphysics?<br \/>\nand the rain repeatedly spattering<br \/>\nits words and drilling them full<br \/>\nof apertures and birds?<\/p>\n<p>I&#8217;ll tell you all the news.<\/p>\n<p>I lived in a suburb,<br \/>\na suburb of Madrid, with bells,<br \/>\nand clocks, and trees.<\/p>\n<p>From there you could look out<br \/>\nover Castille&#8217;s dry face:<br \/>\na leather ocean.<br \/>\nMy house was called<br \/>\nthe house of flowers, because in every cranny<br \/>\ngeraniums burst: it was<br \/>\na good-looking house<br \/>\nwith its dogs and children.<br \/>\nRemember, Raul?<br \/>\nEh, Rafel?<br \/>\nFederico, do you remember<br \/>\nfrom under the ground<br \/>\nmy balconies on which<br \/>\nthe light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?<br \/>\nBrother, my brother!<br \/>\nEverything<br \/>\nloud with big voices, the salt of merchandises,<br \/>\npile-ups of palpitating bread,<br \/>\nthe stalls of my suburb of Arguelles with its statue<br \/>\nlike a drained inkwell in a swirl of hake:<br \/>\noil flowed into spoons,<br \/>\na deep baying<br \/>\nof feet and hands swelled in the streets,<br \/>\nmetres, litres, the sharp<br \/>\nmeasure of life,<br \/>\nstacked-up fish,<br \/>\nthe texture of roofs with a cold sun in which<br \/>\nthe weather vane falters,<br \/>\nthe fine, frenzied ivory of potatoes,<br \/>\nwave on wave of tomatoes rolling down the sea.<\/p>\n<p>And one morning all that was burning,<br \/>\none morning the bonfires<br \/>\nleapt out of the earth<br \/>\ndevouring human beings &#8212;<br \/>\nand from then on fire,<br \/>\ngunpowder from then on,<br \/>\nand from then on blood.<br \/>\nBandits with planes and Moors,<br \/>\nbandits with finger-rings and duchesses,<br \/>\nbandits with black friars spattering blessings<br \/>\ncame through the sky to kill children<br \/>\nand the blood of children ran through the streets<br \/>\nwithout fuss, like children&#8217;s blood.<\/p>\n<p>Jackals that the jackals would despise,<br \/>\nstones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,<br \/>\nvipers that the vipers would abominate!<\/p>\n<p>Face to face with you I have seen the blood<br \/>\nof Spain tower like a tide<br \/>\nto drown you in one wave<br \/>\nof pride and knives!<\/p>\n<p>Treacherous<br \/>\ngenerals:<br \/>\nsee my dead house,<br \/>\nlook at broken Spain:<br \/>\nfrom every house burning metal flows<br \/>\ninstead of flowers,<br \/>\nfrom every socket of Spain<br \/>\nSpain emerges<br \/>\nand from every dead child a rifle with eyes,<br \/>\nand from every crime bullets are born<br \/>\nwhich will one day find<br \/>\nthe bull&#8217;s eye of your hearts.<\/p>\n<p>And you&#8217;ll ask: why doesn&#8217;t his poetry<br \/>\nspeak of dreams and leaves<br \/>\nand the great volcanoes of his native land?<\/p>\n<p>Come and see the blood in the streets,<br \/>\ncome and see<br \/>\nthe blood in the streets,<br \/>\ncome and see the blood<br \/>\nin the streets!<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>From: Spain in our hearts (1938)<br \/>\nEnglish translation by Nathaniel Tarn in Selected Poems: A Bilingual Edition, by Pablo Neruda. London, Cape, 1970.<\/em><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Per leggere la <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/explico-algunas-cosas\/\"><strong>versione originale in spagnolo<\/strong><\/a> di &#8220;I\u2019m explaining a few things&#8221;, <strong>clicca qui: <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/explico-algunas-cosas\/\">Explico Algunas Cosas<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Per leggere la <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/spiego-alcune-cose\/\"><strong>versione in italiano<\/strong><\/a> di &#8220;I\u2019m explaining a few things&#8221;, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.filastrocche.it\/contenuti\/spiego-alcune-cose\/\"><strong>clicca qui: Spiego alcune cose<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs? and the poppy-petalled metaphysics? and the rain repeatedly spattering its words and drilling them full of apertures and birds? I&#8217;ll tell you all the news. I lived in a suburb, a suburb of Madrid, with bells, and clocks, and trees. From there you could look [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":209581,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[9,51],"tags":[2783,4069,187,189,133],"sponsors":[],"class_list":["post-209579","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poesie","category-poesie-dautore","tag-guerra","tag-pablo-neruda","tag-poesia","tag-poesie-2","tag-scuola-2","occasioni-scuola","lingua-inglese","scopo-intrattenimento"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v26.2 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>I\u2019m explaining a few things di Pablo Neruda - Filastrocche.it<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"Testo della poesia in inglese dal titolo: I\u2019m explaining a few things di Pablo Neruda. 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