You would know what the crab weaves in the gold of its claws,
and I answer: Ocean will say it.
You ask what the luminous bell of the sea-squirt awaits in the
does it hope for? I tell you, it waits for the fullness of time, like
For whom does the alga Macrocystis extend its embraces?
Unriddle it, riddle it out, at a time, in a sea that I know.
And the Narwhal's malevolent ivory? Though you turn for my
answer, I tell you
you stay for a stranger reply; how he suffered the killing harpoon.
Or you look, it may be, for the kingfisher's plumage, a pulsation
of purest beginning in the tropical water.
Now, on the lucid device of the polyp you tangle
a new importunity, flailing it fine, to the bran:
you would sift the electrical matter that moves on the tines of the
the stalactite's splintering armor that lengthens its crystal;
the barb of the angler fish, the singing extension
that weaves in the depths and is loosed on the waters?
I would answer you: the Ocean knows it - the arc of its lifetime
is vast as the sea-sand, flawless and numberless.
Between cluster and cluster, the blood and the vintage, time
the flint in the petal, the beam in the jellyfish;
the branches are threshed in the skein of the coral
from the infinite pearl of the horn.
I am that net waiting emptily - out of range
of the onlooker, slain in the shadows,
fingers inured to a triangle, a timid
half-circles dimensions computed in oranges.
Probing a starry infinitude,
I came, like yourselves,
through the mesh of my being, in the night, and awoke to my
all that was left of the catch - a fish in the noose of the wind.
-- Pablo Neruda
This server is a small machine serving as primary DNS, mail, and webserver
for several private domains, individually held by Adam
and several friends.
It's physically located in Watertown, Massachusetts, but that's never stopped
it from having a good time.