Pablo Neruda

The Tree Is Here, Still, In Pure Stone

The tree is here, still, in pure stone, in deep evidence, in solid beauty, layered, through a hundred million years. Agate, cornelian, gemstone transmuted the timber and sap until damp corruptions fissured the giant's trunk fusing a parallel being: the living leaves unmade themselves and when the pillar was overthrown fire in the forest, blaze of the dust-cloud, celestial ashes mantled it round, until time, and the lava, created this gift, of translucent stone.

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