THE ART OF POETRY
Let verse be as a key
that opens a thousand doors.
A leaf falls; something passes flying;
let all that the eyes see become created,
and let the soul of the hearer stand trembling.
Discover new worlds and keep watch over your word;
when an adjective does not strengthen, it destroys.
We are in the cycle of nerves.
Our brawn hangs
like a memory, in museums;
but not for that are we less strong:
the true vigour
abides in the head.
Poets: why do you sing of the rose?
Make it bloom in your poem!
For us alone
live all things under the sun.
The poet is a little God.
Vicente Huidobro
Translation by Milton Ben Davis