That’s a really atmospheric rendering of Neruda. I can feel the bone dry heat…
Not a poem - but I read somewhere that if you listen to Elgar’s music, the rhythm of the bicycle is often buried deep inside . Elgar composed in his head whilst cycling the Malvern hills. I love that idea.
Ah yes, Elgar on his bike! Thank you for bringing him up, Liz. I can imagine the glorious opening of the first symphony coming into life while the Malvern hills moved in stately fashion in the background.
Exquisite poem! Hard to imagine one more apt of summer, more easeful, if sometimes purposeful, biking. A poem of modern urban biking would need to be very different. None comes to mind off hand -- but something like the Goncharova painting.
"the sun was shedding itself grain by grain / like burning maize"
Yes it does feel like a bygone era, doesn't it? It reminds me of a long cycling holiday in France I took just after I left school. Rural rides of summer ease!
That thrill of riding a bike without training wheels for the first time. My dad pushing me, the letting go forth into the world, on my own. Thank you, Jeffrey, for evoking the memory.
Yes, bicycles evoke freedom, don't they! I just wish our city and town planners could make them central to their work in creating our buit environment, rather than focusing on cars.
Jeffrey, what a wonderful poem! Mary, I also remember my dad running behind me, holding onto my bike. I peddled like mad and asked, "How am I doing Dad? Dad...??" I turned and looked back to see him now half a block behind, waving at me :-) The freedom!!! I loved my Schwinn StingRay like a sports car.
Mary, it was the only fancy thing I ever owned as a child, but it was great. Metallic gold paint, a “banana seat” and a white basket on the front decorated with yellow roses.
Two different poem completely! I had to re-read the Ode. At least to figure it out. Who knew it would be so complicated, a poem about a bicycle. I have two poems myself and a post which is a travel piece on cycling too. They need more work before I can release them. Looking forward for your bike piece.
It’s a complicated poem. I don’t think it meeds improving any more than my brain needs rewiring. I guess the bicycle is a lot more discreet than the first one. Thank you in advance.
Fascinating, and curiously apt timing, as just about an hour ago, I rode my bike for the first time since breaking my leg in mid-August ( a complicated fracture requiring plate and screws). Just for a few minutes, in our street, but a powerful moment for me.
Bicycles are one of the greatest of human inventions.
Sorry to hear about your accident Jon. But glad to hear you're back in the saddle. My last bike ride was around Stanley Park in Vancouver. Spectacular views!
I am huge Neruda fan Jeffrey, this is a beautiful poem, it has left me feeling a nostalgia for something I can't quite fathom... maybe simply riding a bicycle, which I have not done in years...
Oh yes, somehow I’m ready for it in a love poem, but it caught me off guard after his delight in the passing bicycles. thank for sharing the poem, I hadn’t read it before.
That’s a really atmospheric rendering of Neruda. I can feel the bone dry heat…
Not a poem - but I read somewhere that if you listen to Elgar’s music, the rhythm of the bicycle is often buried deep inside . Elgar composed in his head whilst cycling the Malvern hills. I love that idea.
Ah yes, Elgar on his bike! Thank you for bringing him up, Liz. I can imagine the glorious opening of the first symphony coming into life while the Malvern hills moved in stately fashion in the background.
Neruda! I had to read it aloud to get out of breath as if cycling up hill and finally making it to the top! Lovely.
What a wonderful way to read the poem! I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Exquisite poem! Hard to imagine one more apt of summer, more easeful, if sometimes purposeful, biking. A poem of modern urban biking would need to be very different. None comes to mind off hand -- but something like the Goncharova painting.
"the sun was shedding itself grain by grain / like burning maize"
And
Yes it does feel like a bygone era, doesn't it? It reminds me of a long cycling holiday in France I took just after I left school. Rural rides of summer ease!
That thrill of riding a bike without training wheels for the first time. My dad pushing me, the letting go forth into the world, on my own. Thank you, Jeffrey, for evoking the memory.
Yes, bicycles evoke freedom, don't they! I just wish our city and town planners could make them central to their work in creating our buit environment, rather than focusing on cars.
Jeffrey, what a wonderful poem! Mary, I also remember my dad running behind me, holding onto my bike. I peddled like mad and asked, "How am I doing Dad? Dad...??" I turned and looked back to see him now half a block behind, waving at me :-) The freedom!!! I loved my Schwinn StingRay like a sports car.
What a great memory! Thank you for sharing, Ann.
Those Schwinn bikes were great! Never had a Stingray, but so wanted one.
Mary, it was the only fancy thing I ever owned as a child, but it was great. Metallic gold paint, a “banana seat” and a white basket on the front decorated with yellow roses.
Two different poem completely! I had to re-read the Ode. At least to figure it out. Who knew it would be so complicated, a poem about a bicycle. I have two poems myself and a post which is a travel piece on cycling too. They need more work before I can release them. Looking forward for your bike piece.
I look forward to reading your bicycle poems! And grateful for any suggestions for how to make this English version of the Neruda work better.
It’s a complicated poem. I don’t think it meeds improving any more than my brain needs rewiring. I guess the bicycle is a lot more discreet than the first one. Thank you in advance.
Well done, Jeffrey.
As much Neruda as I've read, I can't recall ever coming across this particular poem. Who but Neruda would give a bicycle a soul?
Thank you, Maureen. And yes, who indeed? An endlessly fascinating poet.
Love Neruda.
Me too!
Fascinating, and curiously apt timing, as just about an hour ago, I rode my bike for the first time since breaking my leg in mid-August ( a complicated fracture requiring plate and screws). Just for a few minutes, in our street, but a powerful moment for me.
Bicycles are one of the greatest of human inventions.
Sorry to hear about your accident Jon. But glad to hear you're back in the saddle. My last bike ride was around Stanley Park in Vancouver. Spectacular views!
...love how Neruda depicts bicycles as inert skeletons when they're parjed/abandoned/stationary. 🚲
Yes, a true poet's imagination!
I am huge Neruda fan Jeffrey, this is a beautiful poem, it has left me feeling a nostalgia for something I can't quite fathom... maybe simply riding a bicycle, which I have not done in years...
I'm delighted that you enjoyed this, Susie! Thank you for your kind words and for sharing the post! 🙏
The only insects of that dry moment! Thanks for this great interpretation Jeffrey.
Thank you, Donna!
Neruda! I love Neruda and such a great translation!
Thank you, LeeAnn! 🙏
A wonderful poem, so many Neruda poems seem to end with a melancholy shade, with an awareness that transcendence is fleeting. Which sadly it is.
Yes, indeed… But fortunately, there’s a joy and verve in his writing that make the journey worthwhile!
Oh yes, somehow I’m ready for it in a love poem, but it caught me off guard after his delight in the passing bicycles. thank for sharing the poem, I hadn’t read it before.
So excellent. I am a big fan of all the odes. Interesting about the insect/seat reference too as I did not know that word at all.
Thank you, Sue! It might be a good word for scrabble players! Apparently, it also has a special meaning in Minecraft…