Wednesday, July 21, 2004
I should finish the Pearls of Wisdom socks tomorrow - as you can see there are many ends to deal with. They also need blocking so you won't see them on the blog until Sunday afternoon. The letter knitting part goes really fast because it interests me; if I was knitting the same amount of plain stockinette it would take forever.
Here's the English translation of the Pablo Neruda poem in its entirety. Wouldn't it be nice if everyone we knit for was as thrilled with a pair of handknit socks?
ODE TO MY SOCKS by Pablo Neruda
Maru Mori brought me
a pair
of socks
which she knitted with her own
sheepherder hands,
two socks as soft
as rabbits.
I slipped my feet
into them
as if they were
two
cases
knitted
with threads of
twilight
and the pelt of sheep.
Outrageous socks,
my feet became
two fish
made of wool,
two long sharks
of ultramarine blue
crossed by one golden hair,
two gigantic blackbirds,
two cannons:
my feet
were honored
in this way
by
these
heavenly
socks.
They were
so beautiful
that for the first time
my feet seemed to me
unacceptable
like two decrepit
firemen, firemen
unworthy of that embroidered
fire,
of those luminous socks.
Nevertheless,
I resisted
the sharp temptation
to save them
as schoolboys
keep fireflies,
as scholars
collect
sacred documents,
I resisted
the wild impulse
to put them
in a golden
cage
and each day give them
birdseed
and chunks of pink melon.
Like explorers
in the jungle
who hand over the rare
green deer
to the roasting spit
and eat it
with remorse,
I stretched out
my feet
and pulled on
the
magnificent
socks
and
then my shoes.
And the moral of my ode
is this:
beauty is twice
beauty
and what is good is doubly
good
when it's a matter of two
woolen socks
in winter.