"No sé, no sé de dónde salió,
de inverno o río.
No sé cómo ni cuándo,
no, no eran voces, no eran palabras,
ni silencio,
pero desde una calle me llamaba,
desde las ramas de la noche
de pronto entre los otros,
entre fuegos violentos o regresando solo,
allí estaba sin rostro y me tocaba."
Pablo Neruda
[I don't know... I don't know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don't know how or when, no, they were not voices, they were not words, nor silence, but from a street I was summoned, from the branches of night, abruptly from the others, among violent fires or returning alone, there I was without a face and it touched me. ]
This is Pablo Neruda's poem "Poesía," and while it is a beautiful image of the artist finding his calling as a poet, I also think it is a beautiful image for any intangible experience, revelation, or inspiration. To not know the means by which it came, even if one knows the source. To be without a face and yet to be chosen abruptly from the others. This is the strange, surreal experience of revelation - poetic, spiritual, intellectual. I just think this poem captures it beautifully.
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