by Pablo Neruda
translated by Ken Jacobsen on 7/4/22
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all be quiet.
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a moment,
and not wave our arms so much.
It would be a sweet moment
without rush, without machines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm the whales
and the man gathering salt
would stop and look at his broken hands.
Those who prepare the planet’s wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is all about;
I want nothing to do with death.
If we were not so determined
to keep our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves and
of threatening ourselves with death; perhaps the earth could teach us,
when everything seems dead,
and turns out to be alive.
Now I’ll count to twelve
and we’ll get quiet,
and I’ll leave you here.
Original poem in Spanish:
A Callarse
Ahora contaremos doce
y nos quedamos todos quietos.
Por una vez sobre la tierra
no hablemos en ningún idioma,
por un segundo detengámonos,
no movamos tanto los brazos.
Sería un minuto fragante,
sin prisa, sin locomotoras,
todos estaríamos juntos
en un inquietud instantánea.
Los pescadores del mar frío
no harían daño a las ballenas
y el trabajador de la sal
miraría sus manos rotas.
Los que preparan guerras verdes,
guerras de gas, guerras de fuego,
victorias sin sobrevivientes,
se pondrían un traje puro
y andarían con sus hermanos
por la sombra, sin hacer nada.
No se confunda lo que quiero
con la inacción definitiva:
la vida es sólo lo que se hace,
no quiero nada con la muerte.
Si no pudimos ser unánimes
moviendo tanto nuestras vidas,
tal vez no hacer nada una vez,
tal vez un gran silencio pueda
interrumpir esta tristeza,
este no entendernos jamás
y amenazarnos con la muerte,
tal vez la tierra nos enseñe
cuando todo parece muerto
y luego todo estaba vivo.
Ahora contaré hasta doce
y tú te callas y me voy.
Pablo Neruda’s poem “A Callarse” (Keeping Quiet) was first published in 1958 as part of his collection Estravagario. The collection marked a period of personal reflection for Neruda, following his return to Chile and his move to Isla Negra.
Ken Jacobsen is a member of Stillwater Friends Meeting in Ohio Yearly Meeting. He recently moved from Wisconsin to Cape Cod in Massachusetts.