Cover image for Fully empowered
Title:
Fully empowered
Author:
Neruda, Pablo, 1904-1973.
Personal Author:
Uniform Title:
Plenos poderes. English
Edition:
Second Farrar, Straus and Giroux paperback edition.
Publication Information:
New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001.

©1995
Physical Description:
viii, 135 pages ; 21 cm
General Note:
Poems.

Translation of: Plenos poderes.
Language:
English
Added Author:
ISBN:
9780374513511
Format :
Book

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PQ8097.N4 P5513 1995 Adult Non-Fiction Non-Fiction Area
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PQ8097.N4 P5513 1995 Adult Non-Fiction Non-Fiction Area
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Summary

Summary

An important collection that includes some of the Nobel Prize winner's own favorite poems.

"The Sea"
A single entity, but no blood.
A single caress, death or a rose.
The sea comes in and puts our lives together
and attacks alone and spreads itself and sing
sin nights and days and men and living creatures.
Its essence-fire and cold; movement, movement.

Pablo Neruda himself regarded Fully Empowered -- which first appeared in Spanish in 1962 under the title Plenos Poderes -- as a particular favorite, in part because it came out of a most fruitful period in his life. These thirty-six poems vary from short, intense lyrics to characteristic Neruda odes to magnificent meditations on the office of poet, including poems that would undoubtedly claim a place in any selection of Neruda's greatest work. "The People" ("El Pueblo"), about the state of the working man in Chile's past and present, and the most celebrated of Neruda's later poems, completes this reflective, graceful collection.


Author Notes

Pablo Neruda was born Ricardo Eliecer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto in Ferral, Chile on July 12, 1904. In 1923 he sold all of his possessions to finance the publication of his first book, Crepusculario (Twilight), which he published under the pseudonym Pablo Neruda. Veinte Poemas de Amor y una Cancion Desesperada (Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair), which was published the following year, made him a celebrity and allowed him to stop his studies to devote himself to poetry.

His other works include España en el Corazón, Canto General, Las Uvas y el Viento, and Para Nacer He Nacido. He received numerous awards including the World Peace Prize with Paul Robeson and Pablo Picasso in 1950, the Lenin Peace Prize and the Stalin Peace Prize in 1953, and the Nobel Prize for Literature for his poetry in 1971. He died of leukemia on September 23, 1973.

(Bowker Author Biography)


Excerpts

Excerpts

Chapter One     Deber del poeta A quien no escucha el mar en este viernes por la mañana, a quien adentro de algo, casa, oficina, fábrica o mujer, o calle o mina o seco calabozo: a éste yo acudo y sin hablar ni ver llego y abro la puerta del encierro y un sin fin se oye vago en la insistencia, un largo trueno roto se encadena al peso del planeta y de la espuma, surgen los ríos roncos del océano, vibra veloz en su rosal la estrella y el mar palpíta, muere y continúa. Así por el destino conducido debo sin tregua oír y conservar el lamento marino en mi conciencia, debo sentir el golpe de agua dura y recogerlo en una taza eterna para que donde esté el encarcelado, don de sufra el castigo del otoño yo esté presente con una ola errante, yo circule a través de las ventanas y al oírme levante la mirada diciendo: cómo me acercaré al océano? Y yo transmitiré sin decir nada los ecos estrellados de la ola, un quebranto de espuma y arenales, un susurro de sal que se retira, el grito gris del ave de la costa. Y así, por mí, la libertad y el mar responderán al corazón oscuro.     The Poet's Obligation To whoever is not listening to the sea this Friday morning, to whoever is cooped up in house or office, factory or woman or street or mine or dry prison cell, to him I come, and without speaking or looking I arrive and open the door of his prison, and a vibration starts up, vague and insistent, a long rumble of thunder adds itself to the weight of the planet and the foam, the groaning rivers of the ocean rise, the star vibrates quickly in its corona and the sea beats, dies, and goes on beating. So, drawn on by my destiny, I ceaselessly must listen to and keep the sea's lamenting in my consciousness, I must feel the crash of the hard water and gather it up in a perpetual cup so that, wherever those in prison may be, wherever they suffer the sentence of the autumn, I may be present with an errant wave, I may move in and out of windows, and hearing me, eyes may lift themselves, asking "How can I reach the sea?" And I will pass to them, saying nothing, the starry echoes of the wave, a breaking up of foam and quicksand, a rustling of salt withdrawing itself, the gray cry of sea birds on the coast. So, through me, freedom and the sea will call in answer to the shrouded heart.     La palabra Nació la palabra en la sangre, creció en el cuerpo oscuro, palpitando, y voló eon los labios y la boca. Más lejos y más cerca aún, aún venía de padres muertos y de errantes razas, de territorios que se hicieron piedra, que se cansaron de sus pobres tribus, porque cuando el dolor salió al camino los pueblos anduvieron y llegaron y nueva tierra y agua reunieron para sembrar de nuevo su palabra. Y así la herencía es ésta: éste es el aire que nos comunica con el hombre enterrado y con la aurora de nuevos seres que aún no amanecieron. Aún la atmósfera tiembla eon la primera palabra elaborada con pánico y gemido. Salió de las tinieblas y hasta ahora no hay trueno que truene aún con su ferretería como aquella palabra, la primera palabra pronunciada: tal vez sólo un susurro fue, una gota,     The Word The word was born in the blood, grew in the dark body, beating, and took flight through the lips and the mouth. Farther away and nearer still, still it came from dead fathers and from wandering races, from lands which had turned to stone, lands weary of their poor tribes, for when grief took to the roads the people set out and arrived and married new land and water to grow their words again. And so this is the inheritance; this is the wavelength which connects us with dead men and the dawning of new beings not yet come to light. Still the atmosphere quivers with the first word uttered dressed up in terror and sighing. It emerged from the darkness and until now there is no thunder that ever rumbles with the iron voice of that word, the first word uttered-- perhaps it was only a ripple, a single drop, y cae y cae aún su catarata. Luego el sentido llena la palabra. Quedó preñada y se llenó de vidas, Todo fue nacimientos y sonidos: la afirmación, la claridad, la fuerza, la negación, la destrucción, la muerte: el verbo asumió todos los poderes y se fundió existencia con esencia en la electricidad de su hermosura. Palabra humana, sílaba, cadera de larga luz y dura platería, hereditaria copa que recibe las comunicaciones de la sangre: he aquí que el silencio fue integrado por el total de la palabra humana y no hablar es morir entre los seres: se hace lenguaje hasta la cabellera, habla la boca sin mover los labios: los ojos de repente son palabras. Yo tomo la palabra y la recorro como si fuera sólo forma humana, me embelesan sus líneas y navego en cada resonancia del idioma: pronuncio y soy y sin hablar me acerca el fin de las palabras al silencio. Bebo por la palabra levantando una palabra o copa cristalina, en ella bebo and yet its great cataract falls and falls. Later on, the word fills with meaning. Always with child, it filled up with lives. Everything was births and sounds-- affirmation, clarity, strength, negation, destruction, death-- the verb took over all the power and blended existence with essence in the electricity of its grace. Human word, syllable, flank of extending light and solid silverwork, hereditary goblet which receives the communications of the blood-- here is where silence came together with the wholeness of the human word, and, for human beings, not to speak is to die-- language extends even to the hair, the mouth speaks without the lips moving, all of a sudden, the eyes are words. I take the word and pass it through any senses as though it were no more than a human shape; its arrangements awe me and I find my way through each resonance of the spoken word-- I utter and I am and, speechless, I approach across the edge of words silence itself. I drink to the word, raising a word or a shining cup; in it I drink el vino del idioma o el agua interminable, manantial maternal de las palabras, y copa y agua y vino originan mi canto porque el verbo es origen y vierte vida: es sangre, es la sangre que expresa su substancia y está dispuesto así su desarrollo: dan cristal al cristal, sangre a la sangre, y dan vida a la vida las palabras. the pure wine of language or inexhaustible water, maternal source of words, and cup and water and wine give rise to my song because the verb is the source and vivid life--it is blood, blood which expresses its substance and so ordains its own unwinding. Words give glass quality to glass, blood to blood, and life to life itself.     Océano Cuerpo más puro que un ola, sal que lava la línea, y el ave lúcida volando sin raíces.     Ocean Body more perfect than a wave, salt washing the sea line, and the shining bird flying without ground roots.     Agua Todo en la tierra se encrespó, la zarza clavó y el hilo verde mordía, el pétalo cayó cayendo hasta que única flor fue la caída. El agua es diferente, no tiene dirección sino hermosura, corre pot cada sueño de color, toma lecciones claras de la piedra y en esos menesteres elabora los deberes intactos de la espuma.     Water Everything on the earth bristled, the bramble pricked and the green thread nibbled away, the petal fell, falling until the only flower was the falling itself. Water is another matter, has no direction but its own bright grace, runs through all imaginable colors, takes limpid lessons from stone, and in those functionings plays out the unrealized ambitions of the foam. Copyright © 1962 Editorial Losada, S.A., Buenos Aires.