Poetry

III.

Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?

Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?

Who hears the regrets
of the thieving automobile?

Is there anything in the world sadder
than a train standing in the rain?

by Pablo Neruda from The Book of Questions

It's been a while since I've had some poetry in my life. I thought it was about time to bring it back.