The Neruda Series

The Sea and the Bells

Pablo Neruda

Salud, decimos cada día,

a cada uno,

es la tarjeta de visita

de la falsa bondad

y de la verdadera.

Es la campana para reconocernos:

aquí estamos, salud!

Se oye bien, existimos.

Salud, salud, salud,

a éste y al otro, a quién,

y al cuchillo, al veneno

y al malvado.

Salud, reconocedme,

somos iguales y no nos queremos,

nos amamos y somos desiguales,

cada uno con cuchara

con un lamento especial,

encantado de ser o de no ser:

hay que disponer de tantas manos,

de tantos labios para sonreír,

salud!

que ya no queda tiempo.

Salud

de enterarse de nada.

Salud

de dedicarnos a nosotros mismos

si es que nos queda algo de nosotros,

de nosotros mismos.

Salud!

Salud, we called out every day,

to every single person,

it is the calling card

or false sincerity.

It's the bell we are known by:

here we are, salud!

You hear it clearly, we exist.

Salud, salud, salud

to this one and that one

and the other one,

to the poisoned knife

and to the assassin.

Salud, recognize me,

we are equal and do not like each other,

we love each other and are not equal,

each of us with a spoon,

with our own sad story,

haunted by being and not being:

we all need to have so many hands,

and so many lips to smile,

salud!

time has already passed.

Salud

to getting to know nothing.

Salud

to devoting ourselves to ourselves,

if anything remains of us,

of ourselves.

Salud!