[!@#$%!]

furrexample this:

"Heights of Macchu Picchu: I," Pablo Neruda

trans. by Ron Hogan [<-- who??]

From air to air, like an empty net,
I went wandering between the streets and the atmosphere, arriving and saying goodbye
leaving behind in autumn's advent the coin extended
from the leaves, and between Spring and the wheat,
that which the greatest love, as within a falling glove,
hands over to us like a large moon.
(Days of live brilliance in the storminess
of bodies: steel transformed
into the silence of acid:
nights unraveled to the last flour:
assualted stamens of the nuptial native land.)
Someone waiting for me among the violins
found a world like a sunken tower
digging its spiral deeper than all
the leaves the color of hoarse sulfur:
and deeper still, into geologic gold,
like a sword sheathed in meteors,
I pulnged my turbulent and tender hand
into the most genital terrestrial territory.
I leaned my head into the deepest waves,
I sank through the sulfuric peace,
and, like a blind man, returned to the jasmine
of the exhausted human springtime.


and this (by fgl)



Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint
Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.
I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.
If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,
never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.