leaning into the afternoons

leaning into the afternoons,
i cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes.

there, in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames;
its arms turning like a drowning man's.

i send out red signals across your absent eyes
that wave like the sea, or the beach by a lighthouse.

you keep only darkness my distant female;
from your regard sometimes, the coast of dread emerges.

leaning into the afternoons,
i fling my sad nets to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.

the birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when i love you.

the night, gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land.

pablo neruda