08/07/2025
Hights of Machu Picchu…
by 1972 Nobel Prize Pablo Neruda
Then up the ladder of the earth I have risen, through the awful tangles of lost forests, up to you, my friend, Macchu Picchu
High city of laddered stones, 26at last, final dwelling for those whom earthliness did not hide in its sleeping garments.
In you, like two parallel lines, the cradle for lightening and people would be rocked in a wind of thorns.Mother of stone, condors' s***m and spray.
High reef of the human dawn.Shovel lost in the earliest sand.This became the dwelling, this is the site: here the broad kernels of corn? rose up and again they fell like red?& stones of hail.
From hence came the vicuña's golden fleece to dress their loves, their catafalques, their mothers, their king, their prayers, their warriors.Here human feet rested at night near eagles feet, in the high slaughterhouses of their ayries, and at dawn,with the thunder's feet, they trod the rarified mist, 30 and they touched the earth and the stones"' until they could recognize them in the night and in death.
I look at garments and hands,traces of the water in the sounding cracks, walls smoothed by the touch of a face that watched terrestrial torches with my eyes,
that oiled with my hands the long lostwooden beams: for everything-clothing, skin, pots, words, wine, loaves of bread-all of it has left, has fallen to the earth.
And, with orange blossom fingers, the air 33 entered covering every sleeping person: a thousand years of air, months, weeks of air, weeks of azure wind, weeks of ferrous mountain chains, that once were like gentle hurricanes of footsteps polishing this solitary 4 site of ston
