Read Odas Elementales by Pablo Neruda Online

odas-elementales

A bilingual collection of 25 newly translated odes by the century's greatest Spanish-language poet, each accompanied by a pair of exquisite pencil drawings. From bread and soap to a bed and a box of tea, the "odes to common things" collected here conjure up the essence of their subjects clearly and wondrously. 50 b&w illustrations....

Title : Odas Elementales
Author :
Rating :
ISBN : 9789507314148
Format Type : Paperback
Number of Pages : 277 Pages
Status : Available For Download
Last checked : 21 Minutes ago!

Odas Elementales Reviews

  • Trudie
    2019-02-28 15:39

    I found myself needing to read poetry for a Read Harder challenge, something I have not done since high school. I decided on Pablo Neruda as I had come across some of his love poetry and also read something of his history when I visited Valparaiso many years ago. This edition ofOdes to Common Thingsseemed a great starting point to ease myself into his poetry. It is a great collection, enhanced with lovely pencil sketches of the everyday items that are risen to objects of desire by these verses. I was somewhat amazed to find out how relaxing reading this was, a vacation from books, tweets and news that is heavy with "issues". The simplicity of a poem about a pair of socks or a Gillyflower is like a balm. The gentle reminder that beauty and wonder can be found everywhere and in the simplest of things, if you truly take the time to notice. My favourite was the story of the Artichoke - I thought it was ingenious. The tender-hearteduprightartichokegirded itself asa warrior, constructeda small dome,to keep itselfwaterproofwithinits scales. ....Ode to the Artichoke

  • Cheryl
    2019-02-26 13:52

    Through Neruda's voice we're reminded that a cat, a spoon, a table, an onion, a flower, are all worthy of poems written just for them. Through his eyes we're reminded of the wonder of the common things themselves, and of the wonder of their significance and place in the world. Lovely lines and arresting ideas knit themselves into poems even children can appreciate (and, perhaps, imitate for a classroom lesson).The book itself is wonderful, too. The illustrations are either of two different kinds of spoons, or two views of a certain kind of flower, heading the Spanish version of the poem and the English translation. Cook's art makes these common things uncommonly beautiful, too. And Krabbenhoft's translation is masterful. I can only read bits of Spanish, but I was drawn to compare K's word-play and 'music' to Neruda's, and was impressed how K managed to capture Neruda's intent so well. I want to own and often reread a copy of this gem. I want students of all ages to enjoy it, too. And I want to gift it to every friend who is interested in decor, design, architecture, whether or not they're interested in poetry. See for example the title facing page, in which spoons are clustered, bowls up, in a juice glass, looking just like themselves but simultaneously like a bouquet of flowers.From Ode to a Table... a single ray of summer lightstrikes like a swordupon this table sitting in the darkand greets the plums' transparent peace.from Ode to a DogAnd he asks mewith both eyes:why is it daytime? why does the night always fall?why does spring bringnothingin its basket for wandering dogsbut useless flowers,flowers and more flowers?from Ode to an ArtichokeAll lined up,they were never more warlikethan that day at the fair....Butthenalong comesMariawith a basket on her arm....For the final actwe revealits delicious flavor,plucking it leaf by leaf,and devourthe peaceable doughthat lies at its green heart.

  • Judy
    2019-02-22 14:23

    If you ever wanted to translate Flemish still life painting into words, read this book.

  • Jessica
    2019-02-26 10:45

    For the Read Harder Challenge, a collection of poetry in translation about a topic other than love.

  • Dora
    2019-02-28 11:30

    'Cebolla,luminosa redoma,pétalo a pátalose formó tu hermosura,escamas de cristal te acrecentarony en el secreto de la tierra oscurase redendeó tu vientre de rocío.Bajo la tierrafue el milagroe cuando apareciótu torpe tallo verde,y nacierontus hojas como espadas en el huerto,la tierra acumuló su poderíomostrando tu desnuda transparencia,y como en Afrodita el mar remotoduplicó la magnolialevantando sus senos,la tierraasí te hizo,cebolla,clara como un planeta,y destinadaa relucir,contelación constante,redonda rosa de agua,sobrela mesmade las pobres gentes.Generosadeshacestu globo de frescuraen la consumaciónferviente de la olla,y el jirón de cristalal calor encendido del azeitese transforma en rizada pluma de oro.También recordaré como fecundatu influencia ele amor de la ensaladay parece que el cielo contribuyedándote fina forma de granizoa celebrar tu claridad picadasobre los hemisferios de un tomate.Pero al alcancede las manos del pueblo,regada con aceite,espolvoreadacon un poco de sal,matas el hambredel jornalero en el duro camino.Estrella de los pobres,hada madrinaenvueltaen delicadopapel, sales del suelo,eterna, intacta, puracomo semilla de astro,y al cortarteel cuchillo en la cocinasube la única lágrimasin pena.Nos hiciste llorar sin afligirmos.Yo cuanto existe celebré, cebolla,pero para mí eresmás hermosa que un avede plumas cegadoras,eres mis ojosglobo celeste, copa de platino,baile inmóvilde anémona nevaday vive la fragancia de la tierraen tu naturaleza cristalina.'

  • Black Elephants
    2019-03-03 10:38

    I found myself in Austin, TX in the indie bookstore Book People, which is just wonderful because it is exactly what a bookstore should be: personable, full of personality and diverse in title selection. Book People welcomes browsers and makes you want to buy with the sincerity with which they display books to sell. On the second floor, the author of that great classic The True Story of the Three Little Pigs was about to speak, and below, I wandered among the staff recommendations without any thought of being tempted into a purchase.When suddenly, there they were! Common things.Specifically, I saw Pablo Neruda's Odes to Common Things.Now, at first, I picked up the book with the same idle curiosity with which I picked up Kay Ryan's book. But after flipping through and reading some of the poetry, noting that the book was a beautifully bound hardcover, had illustrations, showcased the original Spanish next to the English translation and was by Pablo Neruda, I felt honor bound to buy this book—for the sake of Austin's economy!Really, the best way I can describe how awesome this book of poetry is is by relating it to everyday life.After leaving Book People, different friend and I headed off to eat and had a rather cyclical conversation on an infinite topic that went something like this:Me: I think tomatoes are great!Friend: Me too! I love them in salads!Me: Cucumbers are also fantastic in general and in salads!Friend: You know what's also good in salads and as a food? RiceMe: I love rice!Friend: Me too!(Fast forward to a point that is later)Me: I think we could generally agree that, even though we both love this topic and conversation, food is pretty awesome. A lot of great food exists.Friend: You are correct!Me: I actually think I have a poem that can help us out. It explains how awesome bread is.And the poem goes something like this:Bread, you risefrom flour, waterand fire.Dense or light,flattened or round,you duplicatethe mother'srounded womb,and earth'stwice-yearlyswelling.How simpleyou are, bread,and how profound!You line upon the baker's powdered trayslike silverware or platesor pieces of paperand suddenlylife washes over you,there's the joining of seedand fire,and you're growing, growingall at oncelikehips, mouths, breasts,mounds of earth,or people's lives.The temperature rises, you're overwhelmedby fullness, the roarof fertility,and suddenly your golden color is fixed.And when your little wombswere seeded,a brown scarlaid its burn the lengthof your two halves'toastedjuncture.Now, whole,you are mankind's energy,a miracle often admired,the will to live itself.O bread familiar to every mouth,we will not kneel before you:mendo noimploreunclear godsor obscure angels:we will make our own breadout of sea and soil,we will plant wheaton our earth and the planets,bread for every mouth, for every person,our daily bread. Because we plant its seedand grow itnot for one manbut for all,there will be enough:there will be breadfor all the peoples of the earth.And we will also share with one anotherwhatever hasthe shape and the flavor of bread:the earth itself,beautyand love--alltaste like breadand have its shape,the germination of wheat.Everythingexists to be shared,to be freely given,to multiply.This is why, bread,if you fleefrom mankind's houses,if they hide you awayor deny you,if the greedy manpimps for you or the rich man takes you over,if the wheatdoes not yearn for the furrow and the soil:then, bread, we will refuse to pray:breadwe will refuse to beg.We will fight for you instead, side by side with the others,with everyone who knows hunger.We will go after youin every river and in the air.We will divide the entire earth among ourselvesso that you may germinate,and the earth will go forwardwith us:water, fire, and mankindfighting at our side.Crownedwith sheafs of wheat, we will winearth and bread for everyone.Then life itselfwill have the shape of bread,deep and simple, immeasurable and pure.Every living thingwill have its shareof soil and life,and the bread we eat each morning,everyone's daily bread,will be hallowedand sacred,because it will have been wonby the longest and costliestof human struggles.This earthly Victorydoes not have wings:she wears bread on her shoulders instead.Courageously she soars,setting the world free,like a bakerborn aloft on the wind..Me: Bread is awesome.Friend: Bread is really awesome.And then I read the entire book from cover to cover on my flight out of Texas.

  • Stephen Kiernan
    2019-03-01 13:51

    The great Neruda proves that no object is worthless in the eyes of art. A cat, a salt shaker, a chair, all have poetic resonance and emotional power in the hands of a great artist. This particular edition has the benefit of the original language on the left hand pages, which makes for fun comparisons of words. A quick and rewarding book of generally light verse.

  • Ananya
    2019-03-01 13:49

    Read odes to conger chowder, wine, tomatoes, maize, tuna, chestnut, artichoke, lemon, salt...sooo good! Couldn't believe such mundane things could be described so beautifully

  • Zara
    2019-02-19 09:47

    These were simple and delightful, and made me want to write.

  • Manan Sheel
    2019-03-16 15:28

    No one like Neruda!!!

  • Olga
    2019-02-22 13:52

    Poems to be read aloud and if possible to innocent children. Pleasing as can be. Who can forget the gorgeous woolen socks of Maru Mori? good things are doublygoodwhen you're talking about a pair of woolsocksin the dead of winter.Or the box of tea...?box of tea,like myown heartyou arrived bearingstories,thrills,eyesthat had heldfabulous petals in their gazeand also, yes,thatlost scentof tea, of jasmine and of dreams,that scent of wandering spring.

  • Bobby
    2019-02-24 14:22

    Leave it to Neruda to point out the extraordinary aspects of "ordinary" things (bread, socks, onion, and so on). Just goes to show that miracles are always present in the mundane; we just need to see them through the eyes of a poet. For those of us lacking such vision, good thing there is Neruda.

  • Daniel Schechtel
    2019-03-09 14:42

    Uno de los mejores libros que he leído. Te convertiste en una referencia para la creación poética, y por supuesto en uno de mis poetas preferidos, Neruda. Gracias por tanta belleza. Te releo con placer

  • Jane Branson
    2019-03-17 10:43

    Ordinary stuff made beautiful with love and luminous words. Today, "Scissors" and "Cat" are my favourites. Tomorrow it might be "Chair" and "Yellow Flowers".

  • Jacqueline
    2019-03-11 09:37

    And the waves tell the firm coast:'Everything will be fulfilled.' Идейно. Странно. Симпатично.(*aсоциации: Далчев, Pessoa)Любимата ми, "Оde to hope":Oceanic dawnat the centerof my life,waves like grapes,the sky's solitude,you fill meand floodthe complete sea,the undiminished sky,tempoand space,sea foam's whitebattalions,the orange earth,the sun'sfiery waistin agony,so manygifts and talents,birds soaring into their dreams,and the sea, the sea,suspendedaroma,chorus of rich, resonant salt,and meanwhile,we men,touch the water,struggling,and hoping,we touch the sea,hoping.And the waves tell the firm coast:'Everything will be fulfilled.' ***"Ay, alma mía, hermoso es el planeta..." (view spoiler)[ ***(...) Shall we measurelifein meters or kilometersor months?How far since you were born?How longmust you wanderuntillike all meninstead of walking on its surfacewe rest below the earth?To the man, to the womanwho utilized theirenergies, goodness, strength,anger, love, tenderness,to those who trulyaliveflowered,and in their sensuality matured,let us not applythe measureof a timethat may besomething else, a mineralmantle, a solarbird, a flower,something, maybe,but not a measure.Time, metalor bird, longpetiolate flower,stretchthroughman's life,shower himwith blossomsand withbrightwateror with hidden sun.("Ode to age")***I will stitch your eyelids shut,I will sew your shroud,sadness, and bury your rodent bonesbeneath the springtime of an apple tree. ("Ode to sadness")***My darling, suddenlythe line of your hipbecomes the brimming curveof the wine goblet,your breast is the grape cluster,your nipples are the grapes,the gleam of spirits lights your hair,and your navel is a chaste sealstamped on the vessel of your belly,your love an inexhaustiblecascade of wine,light that illuminates my senses,the earthly splendor of life.But you are more than love,the fiery kiss,the heat of fire,more than the wine of life;you arethe community of man,translucency,chorus of discipline,abundance of flowers.("Ode to wine")***(...) amid the fragile greensyou werea solitary ship,armedamong the vegetablesfin and prow black and oiled,as if you were stillthe vessel of the wind,the one and onlypureoceanmachine:unflawed, navigatingthe waters of death. ("Ode to a large tuna in the market")***Dust of the sea, in youthe tongue receives a kissfrom ocean night:taste imparts to every seasoneddish your ocean essence;the smallest,miniaturewave from the saltcellarreveals to usmore than domestic whiteness;in it, we taste infinitude. ("Ode to salt")***Life goes on grinding upglass, wearing out clothesmaking fragmentsbreaking downformsand what lasts through timeis like an island on a ship in the sea,perishablesurrounded by dangerous fragilityby merciless waters and threats. (...)May whatever breaksbe reconstructed by the seawith the long labor of its tides. ("Ode to broken things")***Nakedly beautiful,whether it is your feet, archingat a primal touchof sound or breeze,or your ears,tiny spiral shellsfrom the splendour of America's oceans.Your breasts also,of equal fullness, overflowingwith the living lightand, yes,wingedyour eyelids of silken cornthat discloseor enclosethe deep twin landscapes of your eyes.The line of your backseparating youfalls away into paler regionsthen surgesto the smooth hemispheresof an apple,and goes splittingyour lovelinessinto two pillarsof burnt gold, pure alabaster,to be lost in the twin clusters of your feet,from which, once more, lifts and takes firethe double tree of your symmetry:flower of fire, open circle of candles,swollen fruit raisedover the meeting of earth and ocean.("Ode to a naked beauty")***Not me.I do not subscribe.I do not know the cat.I know it all, life and its archipelago,the sea and the incalculable city,botany,the gyneceum and its frenzies,the plus and the minus of mathematics,the volcanic frauds of the world,the unreal shell of the crocodile,the unknown kindness of the fireman,the blue atavism of the priest,but I cannot decipher a cat.My reason slips on his indifference,his eyes have golden numbers. ("Ode to the cat")***The airis like a riverwhich shakesthe silence.It smells of rosemary,of spaceand roots.Overhead,a crazy song.It's a bird.Howout of its throatsmaller than a fingercan there fall the watersof its song?Luminous ease!Invisiblepowertorrentof musicin the leaves.Sacred conversations!Clean and fresh washedis thisday resounding (...)("Ode to bird watching")***Generouslyyou give upyour balloon of freshnessto the boiling consummationof the pot,and in the blazing heat of the oilthe shred of crystalis transformed into a curled feather of gold.("Ode to the onion")***I loveallthings,not because they arepassionateor sweet smellingbut because,I don’t know,becausethis ocean is yours,and mine :these buttonsand wheelsand littleforgottentreasures,fans uponwhose featherslove has scatteredits blossoms,glasses, knives andscissors –all bearthe traceof someone’s fingerson their handle or surface,the trace of a distant handlostin the depths of forgetfulness.I pause in houses,streets andelevators,touching things,identifying objectsthat I secretly covet :this one because it rings,that one becauseit’s as softas the softness of a woman’s hip,that one there for its deep-sea color,and that one for its velvet feel.("Ode to things")***Leaves shine asif someonehad kissed themone by one,orange treesrise up from the earthraisingminute planetariumsin trees that are as roundedand green as the night,while we roam together, dog and mansniffling everything, jostling cloverin the countryside of Chile,cradled by the bright fingers of September.The dog makes stops,chases bees,leaps over restless water,listens to far-offbarking,pees on a rock,and presents me the tip of his snoutas if it were a gift :it is the freshness of his love,his message of love.And he asks mewith both eyes :why is it daytime? why does night always fall?why does spring bringnothingin its basketfor wandering dogsbut useless flowers,flowers and more flowers?("Ode to the dog")***Poetry is white:it comes from water swathed in drops,it wrinkles and gathers,this planet's skin has to spread out,the sea's whiteness has to be ironed out,and the hands keep moving,the sacred surfaces get smoothed,and things are done this way:the hands make the world every day,fire conjoins with steel,linen, canvas, and cotton arrivefrom the scuffles in the laundries,and from light a dove is born:chastity returns out of the foam. ("Ode to ironing")***(...) box of tea,like myown heartyou arrived bearingstories,thrills,eyesthat had heldfabulous petals in their gazeand also, yes,thatlost scentof tea, of jasmine and of dreams,that scent of wandering spring. (hide spoiler)]

  • Bea Bezmalinovic
    2019-03-20 16:43

    This is a beautiful book. Neruda's poems are presented in Spanish and English with black and white illustrations that fit the feel of the book. Neruda writes about everyday things - dogs, cats, carnations, violets, socks, scissors, etc - with such wit and insight that you won't look at these common things the same way after reading it.I have read it several times. While I do not usually like poems, I loved this book. There are two other books in the series that I am adding to my want to read list.Lovely book. Great gift idea. Highly recommended, especially if you have never read Pablo Neruda.

  • Jonathan Hiskes
    2019-02-20 15:42

    Beautiful little songs of praise to everyday objects -- chair, a cat, a bar of soap, a cluster of violets. This edition also has lovely ink drawings of the subjects. From the ode to French fries (a topic that deserves much more poetic praise): "French/fries/go/into the pan/like the morning swan's/snowy/feathers/and emerge/half-golden from the olive's/crackling amber."

  • Michelle Arostegui
    2019-02-19 10:42

    This is my favorite poetry book of all time, and the left hand page is in English and the right hand page is in Spanish. Both sides are equally lovely, and evoke different feelings about common, everyday objects like chairs and spoons.

  • Sea Witch
    2019-03-19 11:27

    I recommend this poems in particular: •Ode to the atom •Ode to the copper•Ode to the fire •Ode to Guatemala•Ode to Leningrado

  • Antonio Delgado
    2019-03-10 11:33

    Neruda proves that poetry is even in the most trivial object of feeling. He is the Joycean Daedalus.

  • Arigemu
    2019-03-07 13:32

    No todas las odas me gustaron. Pero las que me gustaron realmente llegaron hondo.

  • Nuala Dubh
    2019-03-19 16:46

    4.5 - Beautiful book, beautiful poems- not the best translations

  • Jack Castillo
    2019-03-17 16:30

    My introduction to Neruda was Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair; I loved that book of poems so much that I would give it as a gift whenever I was invited to a wedding. I would read it to my wife on amorous nights. I tried to memorize several of the poems; I even read them in Spanish without worrying about the translation. Now I have to make space on the table next to my reading chair for Odes to Common Things. These gems are like diamonds sparkling in the sand, witty, funny and relaxing. I cannot think of a better way to close out my day than with a poem by Neruda

  • Damián
    2019-03-06 14:43

    Creo que la poesía realmente buena es aquella que no solo produce goce estético y placer sonoro, sino que además nos hace ver el mundo de una manera diferente, nos brinda una nueva y única forma de conocimiento. Todo eso y más lo he obtenido de estas maravillosas "Odas Elementales", que han cambiado mi forma de apreciar las cosas sencillas de la vida. Uno termina de leer este libro y le dan ganas de escribirle un poema al libro que reposa sobre la cama, a un perro paseando por la calle, a un trozo de tarta en la cocina, a la mugre de las uñas, a la corbata, al grano en la frente de la amada, no sé, a cualquier cosa. Neruda demuestra que todo lo que hay en el mundo, cualquier cosa, desde la más insignificante (un átomo) hasta la más valiosa (la vida) es poesía.Mis favoritas:"El hombre invisible", "Oda al aire", "Oda a las Américas", "Oda a las aves de Chile", "Oda a la cebolla", "Oda al cobre", "Oda a la crítica", "Oda a la envidia", "Oda a la fertilidad de la tierra", "Oda al fuego", "Oda al hombre sencillo", "Oda al libro (I)", "Oda al libro (II)", "Oda al mar", "Oda a la pareja", "Oda a la poesía", "Oda a los poetas populares", "Oda a la sencillez" (la que más me ha tocado), "Oda a la soledad", "Oda a la tranquilidad", "Oda a César Vallejo" y "Oda a la vida".

  • Jsavett1
    2019-03-10 13:36

    Having read these immediately after Neruda's Twenty Love Poems (also amazing), I found myself truly loving Neruda for the first time. These poems, are in many ways, Neruda's love poems to the world of things. The issues with reading poems in translation are present as always, but many of these poems are revelatory. For instance, here is the end of "Ode to Sadness": I will stitch your eyelids shut,/I will sew your shroud,/sadness, and bury your rodent bones/beneath the springtime of an apple tree."One of the things Neruda does beautifully in these poems is turn the subject of the ode around in his hand and discuss its facets, its dark and light, its life and death, it's sweetness and blood. The great Spanish poet Antonio Machado said "I am never closer to thinking one thing than when I have written the opposite." That sentiment is true, thankfully, of Neruda's odes.

  • Andrew Nicholas
    2019-02-18 08:33

    This book of poems right here will leave you with a crazy, crazy love of things. Pablo Neruda resurrects the ordinary as well as Marilynne Robinson does. The extraordinary, the transcendent, the unimaginably meaningful, the impossibly beautiful, the unspeakably sacred, reveals itself to him as the most common. This book challenged me to love everyday things not because they are passionate or pleasurable or sweet-smelling but because, I dont know, because they are intrinsically sacred by virtue of their existence as staples in daily human experience.

  • Etola
    2019-03-09 13:40

    I studied a few of Neruda's odes to common things back in High School, but this was my first time actually sitting down and making a point of reading a collection of his. It was quite lovely, and I enjoyed it! I have a rudimentary understanding of Spanish (again, a holdover from high school) so it was interesting trying to compare the Spanish and English versions. There was only one point at which I feel that the translator's choice was not what I would've gone with, but otherwise it seemed like a good job.

  • Tyler Jones
    2019-02-22 11:32

    These are beautiful poems. But..if I may nit-pick...they are a bit repetitive. I mean the first time he used the planetarium simile, it was striking. But then it shows up in two more poems in close order. Something about this collection does not quite work for me. Perhaps it is the inclusion of animals and vegetables along with common inanimate objects that seems awkward to me. A dog is not a spoon. Even though the odes to the dog and the cat were probably the best poems in the collection, I just don't see that they belong in this book.

  • Kellie
    2019-02-24 13:33

    Neruda was a prince of a man. The one language that I was NOT interested in was Spanish-- it was "common" and I wanted to travel. I have not traveled much and I cannot get over how much knowing and speaking it would help me in social work. Neruda's bilingual poetry is lovely. I like to read the English out loud while glancing at the Spanish. My favorite poem of all time is his Ode to Socks. He wrote about common things for common people. He saw art and beauty everywhere.

  • Jenny
    2019-03-12 12:39

    Without question, one of my favorite books of poetry. Neruda has microscopic eyes! Amazing ability to strip everything done to the bone, even meaningless objects transform into treasures under his hand. His keen eye teaches us to appreciate each object on this earth. He picks up the unseen, the unnoticed, and turns it into art.