Featured Poem: My Name was Reyes

By Pablo Neruda

My name was Reyes, Catrileo,

Arellano, Rodriguez, I have forgotten

my true names.

I was born with a surname

of old oaks, of saplings,

of hissing wood.

I was deposited

among rotting leaves:

this newborn sank down

in the defeat and in the birth

of forests that were falling

and poor houses that had recently been weeping.

I was not born but rather they founded me:

all at once they gave me every name,

every family’s name:

I was called thicket, then plum tree,

larch and then wheat,

that is why I am so much and so little,

so wealthy and so destitute,

because I come from below,

from the earth.

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