Excerpt from Neruda’s Ode to a Violin in California

Ode to a Violin in California

by Pablo Neruda

…That hungry man’s violin

was like family to me,

like kin,

and not just because of its sound,

not just because it raised

its howling

to the angry stars,

no:  because it had grown up


how to befriend lost souls

and sing songs to wandering strangers.

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