The artichoke <br />With a tender heart <br />Dressed up like a warrior, <br />Standing at attention, it built <br />A small helmet <br />Under its scales <br />It remained <br />Unshakeable, <br />By its side <br />The crazy vegetables <br />Uncurled <br />Their tendrills and leaf-crowns, <br />Throbbing bulbs, <br />In the sub-soil <br />The carrot <br />With its red mustaches <br />Was sleeping, <br />The grapevine <br />Hung out to dry its branches <br />Through which the wine will rise, <br />The cabbage <br />Dedicated itself <br />To trying on skirts, <br />The oregano <br />To perfuming the world, <br />And the sweet <br />Artichoke <br />There in the garden, <br />Dressed like a warrior, <br />Burnished <br />Like a proud <br />Pomegrante. <br />And one day <br />Side by side <br />In big wicker baskets <br />Walking through the market <br />To realize their dream <br />The artichoke army <br />In formation. <br />Never was it so military <br />Like on parade. <br />The men <br />In their white shirts <br />Among the vegetables <br />Were <br />The Marshals <br />Of the artichokes <br />Lines in close order <br />Command voices, <br />And the bang <br />Of a falling box. <br /> <br />But <br />Then <br />Maria <br />Comes <br />With her basket <br />She chooses <br />An artichoke, <br />She's not afraid of it. <br />She examines it, she observes it <br />Up against the light like it was an egg, <br />She buys it, <br />She mixes it up <br />In her handbag <br />With a pair of shoes <br />With a cabbage head and a <br />Bottle <br />Of vinegar <br />Until <br />She enters the kitchen <br />And submerges it in a pot. <br /> <br />Thus ends <br />In peace <br />This career <br />Of the armed vegetable <br />Which is called an artichoke, <br />Then <br />Scale by scale, <br />We strip off <br />The delicacy <br />And eat <br />The peaceful mush <br />Of its green heart.<br /><br />Pablo Neruda<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ode-to-the-artichoke/
