Epilogue

I’m borrowing from Neruda as he borrowed from others— wings of birds and foreign words. Nothing’s created from nothing. Nevertheless, I’m responsible, not Pablo. If you don’t like my stuff or if you aren’t interested in it, just pass over it and read his. For my poems, I chose every word and every line, so if they have shortcomings, either I meant them to or I’m sorry. I’ve meant only respect for Neruda’s work. Every one of his poems is worth careful reading. I just hope these birds can fly even when their feathers are words of English.