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Fri Feb 8, 2013, 03:31 PM

Pablo Neruda’s foundation supports decision to exhume poet’s body for autopsy

Source: Pablo Neruda’s foundation supports decision to exh

Pablo Neruda’s foundation supports decision to exhume poet’s body for autopsy
By Associated Press,
Updated: Friday, February 8, 2:13 PM

SANTIAGO, Chile — The body of Nobel Prize-winning poet Pablo Neruda will be exhumed for an autopsy seeking clues to what killed him.

Neruda died days after the 1973 military coup that ended the life of his close friend, socialist President Salvador Allende. With Gen. Augusto Pinochet’s forces killing prominent leftists, friends had a plane waiting to carry Neruda into exile.

Neruda was hospitalized with cancer at the time, but friends have told The Associated Press that the official cause of extreme malnutrition makes no sense because Neruda weighed 220 pounds (100 kilograms).

Forensic scientists have said it would be very difficult to determine from his remains whether drugs were given in doses big enough to kill him.

Read more: http://www.washingtonpost.com/world/the_americas/pablo-nerudas-foundation-supports-decision-to-exhume-poets-body-for-autopsy/2013/02/08/f52284a0-722b-11e2-b3f3-b263d708ca37_story.html

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Reply Pablo Neruda’s foundation supports decision to exhume poet’s body for autopsy (Original post)
Judi Lynn Feb 2013 OP
LineNew Reply !
patrice Feb 2013 #1
mitchtv Feb 2013 #2
Adenoid_Hynkel Feb 2013 #3
babydollhead Feb 2013 #4
babydollhead Feb 2013 #5
babydollhead Feb 2013 #6
mitchtv Feb 2013 #7
mitchtv Feb 2013 #8

Response to Judi Lynn (Original post)

Fri Feb 8, 2013, 08:59 PM

1. !

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Response to Judi Lynn (Original post)

Fri Feb 8, 2013, 11:00 PM

2. Long overdue

murder

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Response to Judi Lynn (Original post)

Sat Feb 9, 2013, 01:10 PM

3. First Jara's killers arrested, now this

maybe the victims of the other Sept. 11th will finally get justice 40 years after the fact.

Now if someone would just indict Kissinger already.



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Response to Adenoid_Hynkel (Reply #3)

Sat Feb 9, 2013, 01:30 PM

4. thanks for posting those.

Mothers of the dissappered is so so haunting

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Response to babydollhead (Reply #4)

Sat Feb 9, 2013, 01:31 PM

5. see below..

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Response to babydollhead (Reply #4)

Sat Feb 9, 2013, 01:33 PM

6. neruda poem I LOVE (not a love poem)













Walking Around



It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie
houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse
sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.
The only thing I want is to see no more stores, no gardens,
no more goods, no spectacles, no elevators.

It so happens that I am sick of my feet and my nails
and my hair and my shadow.
It so happens I am sick of being a man.

Still it would be marvelous
to terrify a law clerk with a cut lily,
or kill a nun with a blow on the ear.
It would be great
to go through the streets with a green knife
letting out yells until I died of the cold.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
insecure, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
going on down, into the moist guts of the earth,
taking in and thinking, eating every day.

I don't want so much misery.
I don't want to go on as a root and a tomb,
alone under the ground, a warehouse with corpses,
half frozen, dying of grief.

That's why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the
night.

And it pushes me into certain corners, into some moist
houses,
into hospitals where the bones fly out the window,
into shoeshops that smell like vinegar,
and certain streets hideous as cracks in the skin.

There are sulphur-colored birds, and hideous intestines
hanging over the doors of houses that I hate,
and there are false teeth forgotten in a coffeepot,
there are mirrors
that ought to have wept from shame and terror,
there are umbrellas everywhere, and venoms, and umbilical
cords.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes,
my rage, forgetting everything,
I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic
shops,
and courtyards with washing hanging from the line:
underwear, towels and shirts from which slow
dirty tears are falling.


Translated by Robert Bly


Pablo Neruda

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Response to Adenoid_Hynkel (Reply #3)

Sun Feb 10, 2013, 01:49 PM

7. I think all that's needed is get him to Spain

a sort of"you won a trip to the Riviera!!" then an unschduled change of planes in MADRID

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Response to Judi Lynn (Original post)

Sun Feb 10, 2013, 01:55 PM

8. el derecho de vivr en paz

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