A Travellerspoint blog

stones, tears -- and Neruda

a message from the Camino...

Today I took the stone that I had been carrying for many years, from my pocket --- it was hurting me just too much.

I hurled it into an empty ploughed field that stretched for ever -- right past the horizon -- I hurled it so far that there was no possibility of me ever again going to find it amongst a million others, -- or to return it to my pocket.

When I arrived at this refugio tonight, bitterly cold and frozen, there was a huge open fire waiting and, as if for me, and only me, a book of Pablo Neruda┬┤s poetry lay on the table next to the fire ---

I burst into tears -- and I cried for the beauty of it, for the relief of the beautiful poetry, for the warmth, for the sore feet and the frozen fingers --- and mostly for the stone that is missing from my pocket -- for all time.


Now, you are mine. Rest with your dream inside my dream.
Love, pain, and work, must sleep now.
Night revolves on invisible wheels
and joined to me you are pure as sleeping amber.
No one else will sleep with my dream, love.
You will go; we will go joined by the waters of time.
No other one will travel the shadows with me,
only you, ever green, ever sun, ever moon.


There are many myths and legends on the Camino -- and -- probably because there are so many stones (have I mentioned the stones?!) many of these legends revolve around the stones. I shall be writing more about them and the different beliefs about them and a few interesting little stories and anecdotes.[b]

Posted by Lalinde 09:56

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