The opening stanzas of his verse, “Poetry" - Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age… Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don’t know,
I don’t know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don’t know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence but from a street
I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone, there I was
without a face
and it touched me.