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
learning
how to befriend lost souls
and sing songs to wandering strangers.
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