Ode to My Socks

by Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

Maru Mori brought me
a pair
of socks
which she knitted herself
with her sheepherder’s hands,
two socks as soft
as rabbits.
I slipped my feet
into them
as though into
two
cases
knitted
with threads of
twilight
and goatskin.
Violent socks,
my feet were
two fish made
of wool,
two long sharks
sea-blue, shot
through
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons:
my feet
were honored
in this way
by
these
heavenly
socks.
They were
so handsome
for the first time
my feet seemed to me
unacceptable
like two decrepit
firemen, firemen
unworthy
of that woven
fire,
of those glowing
socks.

Nevertheless
I resisted
the sharp temptation
to save them somewhere
as schoolboys
keep
fireflies,
as learned men
collect
sacred texts,
I resisted
the mad impulse
to put them
into a golden
cage
and each day give them
birdseed
and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers
in the jungle who hand
over the very rare
green deer
to the spit
and eat it
with remorse,
I stretched out
my feet
and pulled on
the magnificent
socks
and then my shoes.

The moral
of my ode is this:
beauty is twice
beauty
and what is good is doubly
good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool
in winter.

“Ode to My Socks” from Neruda & Vallejo: Selected Poems, by Pablo Neruda and translated by Robert Bly (Boston: Beacon Press, 1993).

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On my way to the National Storytelling Festival one year, I stopped in Asheville, North Carolina, to visit a friend. The next day, I got ready to go for a walk in the city. I unpacked every last thing in my suitcase because I just could not believe that I’d forgotten to bring extra socks. My friend had gone to work, and I was walking alone downtown when I found an outdoor gear store. This was the only place that I could find that might have socks. I bought some “Darn Tough” socks. The socks were $20 each, but there was a sale. Buy 3, get one free. So I got 3 and one free. Those socks really are Darn Tough and have lasted. Because of the pattern, I call them my wicked witch socks. I love them. Years later, I’m still in shock that I had to buy $20 socks (times three). I’m still trying to wear them out, to get my money’s worth out of those Darn Tough socks. The gift that keeps on giving.