For Everyone
I can’t just suddenly tell you
what I should be telling you,
friend, forgive me; you know
that although you don’t hear my words,
I wasn’t asleep or in tears,
that I’m with you without seeing you
for a good long time and until the end.
I know that many may wonder
“What is Pablo doing?” I’m here.
If you look for me in this street
you’ll find me with my violin,
prepared to break into song,
prepared to die.
It is nothing I have to leave to anyone,
not to these others, not to you,
and if you listen well, in the rain,
you’ll hear
that I come and go and hang about.
And you know that I have to leave.
Even if my words don’t know it,
be sure, I’m the one who left.
There is no silence which doesn’t end.
When the moment comes, expect me
and let them all know I’m arriving
in the street, with my violin.
By Pablo Neruda
This late poem by Pablo Neruda is a quiet affirmation of presence, friendship and artistic legacy. In it, Neruda imagines returning in spirit, violin in hand, ready to speak through music even after words are gone.
