The Fairy Tale

As she sleeps,
She dreams of her journeys
Through sweet-smelling tropical trees
On oceans that were never ending
Through storms that she thought she wouldn’t make it through
Soaring over streets and cities seeing the beautiful lights
Being captivated by the views
But in all her journeys she still felt lost
She was missing her light.

Poesía Indígena de México

Tiembla la tierra:
Comienza el canto.
La nación Méxicana:
Tan pronto como la oyen
Se ponen a bailar
Aguilas y tigres

Pablo Neruda's Ode to Things

I have a crazy,
crazy love of things.
I like pliers,
and scissors.
I love
cups,
rings,
and bowls –
not to speak, or course,
of hats.