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The Dreamer

Page history last edited by PBworks 12 years, 10 months ago

Ode to ___________
Due: Monday, November 29

Re-read some of Pablo Neruda's "Odes" (see links below the image). Then, write your own ode to a "thing." Please pick ONE thing to write about. In your ode you must refer to the subject of the poem at least once without mentioning the actual word, like Neruda did several times in Ode to salt. Your poem should be between 50 and 75 words.


 

The Dreamer - Pam Muñoz Ryan

The Dreamer is our first read aloud book of the year. It is based on the childhood of Neftali Reyes/Pablo Neruda. You can read a biography of Pablo Neruda here.

 

Here are some links to assignments relating to The Dreamer. These assignments include poetry by Pablo Neruda.

Ode to things

Ode to the table

Ode to apples and Ode to French fries

 

The Me-Bird (excerpt)


I am the Pablo bird,
bird of a single feather,
I fly in the clear shadows
and the confused light.
My wings are invisible,
my ears vibrate with sound
as I fly among the trees
or underneath tombstones
like a sorrowing umbrella
or a naked sword,
formal as a bow,
or round like a grape.
I fly, I fly unaware
in the hurt of the night…
I am the raging bird
in the quiet of the storm.

 
Shyness


I scarcely knew, by myself, that I existed,
that I’d be able to be, and go on being.
I was afraid of that, of life itself.
I didn’t want to be seen,
I didn’t want my existence to be known.
I became pallid, thin, and absentminded.
I didn’t want to speak so that nobody would recognize my voice, I didn’t want
to see so that nobody would see me.
Walking, I pressed myself against the wall
like a shadow slipping away…




 
The Father (excerpt)

My blunt father comes back
from the trains.
We recognize
in the night
the whistle
of the locomotive
perforating the rain
with a wandering moan,
lament of the night,
and later
the door shivering open.
A rush of wind
came in with my father,
and between footsteps and drafts
the house
shook,
the surprised doors
banged with the dry bark of pistols,
the staircase groaned,
and a loud voice,
complaining, grumbled
while the wild dark,
the waterfall rain
rumbled on the roofs
and, little by little,
drowned the world…

 
All poems by Pablo Neruda

 

 

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