Ode to the Book

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Book
beautiful
book
minuscule forest,
leaf
after leaf
your paper
smells
of the elements,
you are
matutinal and nocturnal,
vegetal,
oceanic,
in your ancient pages
camp fires
near the Mississippi
canoes
in the islands,
later
roads
and roads,
revelations,
insurgent
races,
Rimbauld like a wounded
fish bleeding
flopping in the mud,
and the beauty
of fellowship,
stone by stone

-Pablo Neruda

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