Daughter Poems - Poems For Daughter

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Sonnet Xxxiv (You Are The Daughter Of The Sea) - Poem by Pablo Neruda

You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.

Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.

Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.

And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest--
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.

Translated by Stephen Tapscott

Submitted by Hen

Comments about Sonnet Xxxiv (You Are The Daughter Of The Sea) by Pablo Neruda

  • Emma spring 10/11/2019 7:36:00 AM

    This poem is sweet soft and I like it

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Emma spring 10/11/2019 7:35:00 AM

    This poem is sweet soft and I like it

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • melol 6/5/2019 10:51:00 AM

    It is good, I liked it. Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Randomperson 2/22/2018 10:07:00 AM

    I don't understand this, it's ironic Reply

    aiyannahuu (3/13/2018 9:53:00 AM)

    i ereaaly doreorgnmgr

    2 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio Frosini 11/24/2015 6:57:00 AM

    ''Cien sonetos de amor''

    Soneto XXXIV

    Eres hija del mar y prima del orégano,
    nadadora, tu cuerpo es de agua pura,
    cocinera, tu sangre es tierra viva
    y tus costumbres son floridas y terrestres.
    Al agua van tus ojos y levantan las olas,
    a la tierra tus manos y saltan las semillas,
    en agua y tierra tienes propiedades profundas
    que en ti se juntan como las leyes de la greda.
    Náyade, corta tu cuerpo la turquesa
    y luego resurrecto florece en la cocina
    de tal modo que asumes cuanto existe
    y al fin duermes rodeada por mis brazos que apartan
    de la sormbra sombría, para que tú descanses,
    legumbres, algas, hierbas: la espuma de tus sueños.

    14 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Brian Jani 5/13/2014 12:52:00 PM

    Pablo Amazing poetic skills here Reply

    5 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • Gregory Collins 2/27/2008 2:42:00 AM

    if i was johnny depp, i would pay 50,000 dollars for an old coat of neruda's, maybe it has a used kleenex from 1969 Reply

    4 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • John Tiong Chunghoo 7/4/2006 6:12:00 AM

    very nice pablo. as usual your sense of humour shines through. Reply

    1 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Daughter Poems
  1. 1. Sonnet Xxxiv (You Are The Daughter Of Th..
    Pablo Neruda
  2. 2. A Daughter Of Eve
    Christina Georgina Rossetti
  3. 3. Lord Ullin's Daughter
    Thomas Campbell
  4. 4. Daughter
    Gertrude Stein
  5. 5. A Prayer For My Daughter
    William Butler Yeats
  6. 6. For My Daughter
    David Ignatow
  7. 7. A Flower Given To My Daughter
    James Joyce
  8. 8. The Daughter Goes To Camp
    Sharon Olds
  9. 9. A Daughter Through The Eyes Of A Father
    Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
  10. 10. To A Sad Daughter
    Michael Ondaatje
  11. 11. ! Daughter
    Michael Shepherd
  12. 12. A Poets's Welcome To His Love-Begotten D..
    Robert Burns
  13. 13. Oh, Dear Daughter
    Hasmukh Amathalal
  14. 14. The Miller's Daughter
    Alfred Lord Tennyson
  15. 15. Bells For John Whiteside's Daughter
    John Crowe Ransom
  16. 16. For My Daughter
    Weldon Kees
  17. 17. To The Honourable T. H. Esq; On The Deat..
    Phillis Wheatley
  18. 18. Father And Daughter
    Justin Gildow
  19. 19. A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter
    Henry Timrod
  20. 20. Darling Daughter Of Babylon
    Vachel Lindsay
  21. 21. Daughter
    Scott Austin
  22. 22. Mother And Daughter
    Anne Sexton
  23. 23. If A Daughter You Have
    Richard Brinsley Sheridan
  24. 24. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! A Mother And Daughter! ! ..
    Mamta Agarwal
  25. 25. Special Daughter
  26. 26. A Little Princess--Breshna Kahn (Sweet T..
    Afzal Shauq
  27. 27. On My First Daughter
    Ben Jonson
  28. 28. A Daughter Leaving Home
    Ray Hansell
  29. 29. The Dole Of The King's Daughter (Breton)
    Oscar Wilde
  30. 30. Ballad Of Earl Haldan's Daughter
    Charles Kingsley
  31. 31. Daughter Of Nile……1004/10
    saadat tahir
  32. 32. Sonnet X: Daughter To That Good Earl
    John Milton
  33. 33. Heine's "Widow Or Daughter?"
    Eugene Field
  34. 34. Gigantic Daughter Of The West,
    Alfred Lord Tennyson
  35. 35. The Free-Selector's Daughter
    Henry Lawson
  36. 36. My Daughter’s New Daughter
    L.. Pierson
  37. 37. ! To A God-Daughter On Her Sad Poem
    Michael Shepherd
  38. 38. Lesbia's Daughter
    Kenneth Slessor
  39. 39. A Name For My Daughter
    hamid kareem
  40. 40. Jeptha's Daughter
    George Gordon Byron
  41. 41. Upon My Daughter Hannah Wiggin Her Recou..
    Anne Bradstreet
  42. 42. Love, Daughter, Forever
    irene santiago
  43. 43. Mother And Daughter...
    StaceyLeigh Olner
  44. 44. My Loving Daughter.......
    Ravi Sathasivam
  45. 45. The Day Of The Daughter Of Hades
    George Meredith
  46. 46. To My Daughter
    Victor Marie Hugo
  47. 47. The Dirge Of Jephthah's Daughter:Sung By..
    Robert Herrick
  48. 48. ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! From A Daughte..
    Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca ..
  49. 49. To My Daughter
    Archibald Lampman
  50. 50. The Ruler's Daughter Raised
    John Newton

New Daughter Poems

  1. She Shall Not Walk, Terence George Craddock (aft ..
  2. My Eldest Daughter Surprises With Crisis.., Terence George Craddock (aft ..
  3. My Father's Daughter, Dahlia Morris
  4. Tommorow, The Guest, Lucky Sunday
  5. Hey Mom, Jim Yerman
  6. My Departing Daughter, vaibhav vizard
  7. Love Is The Daughter Of Peace! And Peace.., Joshua Aaron Guillory
  8. The Bereaved Father, ANJANDEV ROY
  9. Rosemary, Diana Juno
  10. Dark Daughter, My Heart Still Longs For .., Bijay Kant Dubey

Daughter Poems

  1. A Prayer For My Daughter

    ONCE more the storm is howling, and half hid Under this cradle-hood and coverlid My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle But Gregory's wood and one bare hill Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind. Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed; And for an hour I have walked and prayed Because of the great gloom that is in my mind. I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower, And-under the arches of the bridge, and scream In the elms above the flooded stream; Imagining in excited reverie That the future years had come, Dancing to a frenzied drum, Out of the murderous innocence of the sea. May she be granted beauty and yet not Beauty to make a stranger's eye distraught, Or hers before a looking-glass, for such, Being made beautiful overmuch, Consider beauty a sufficient end, Lose natural kindness and maybe The heart-revealing intimacy That chooses right, and never find a friend. Helen being chosen found life flat and dull And later had much trouble from a fool, While that great Queen, that rose out of the spray, Being fatherless could have her way Yet chose a bandy-legged smith for man. It's certain that fine women eat A crazy salad with their meat Whereby the Horn of plenty is undone. In courtesy I'd have her chiefly learned; Hearts are not had as a gift but hearts are earned By those that are not entirely beautiful; Yet many, that have played the fool For beauty's very self, has charm made wisc. And many a poor man that has roved, Loved and thought himself beloved, From a glad kindness cannot take his eyes. May she become a flourishing hidden tree That all her thoughts may like the linnet be, And have no business but dispensing round Their magnanimities of sound, Nor but in merriment begin a chase, Nor but in merriment a quarrel. O may she live like some green laurel Rooted in one dear perpetual place. My mind, because the minds that I have loved, The sort of beauty that I have approved, Prosper but little, has dried up of late, Yet knows that to be choked with hate May well be of all evil chances chief. If there's no hatred in a mind Assault and battery of the wind Can never tear the linnet from the leaf. An intellectual hatred is the worst, So let her think opinions are accursed. Have I not seen the loveliest woman born Out of the mouth of plenty's horn, Because of her opinionated mind Barter that horn and every good By quiet natures understood For an old bellows full of angry wind? Considering that, all hatred driven hence, The soul recovers radical innocence And learns at last that it is self-delighting, Self-appeasing, self-affrighting, And that its own sweet will is Heaven's will; She can, though every face should scowl And every windy quarter howl Or every bellows burst, be happy Still. And may her bridegroom bring her to a house Where all's accustomed, ceremonious; For arrogance and hatred are the wares Peddled in the thoroughfares. How but in custom and in ceremony Are innocence and beauty born? Ceremony's a name for the rich horn, And custom for the spreading laurel tree.

  2. Lord Ullin's Daughter

    A chieftain, to the Highlands bound, Cries, ``Boatman, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound To row us o'er the ferry!''-- ``Now, who be ye, would cross Lochgyle, This dark and stormy weather?'' ``O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle, And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.-- ``And fast before her father's men Three days we've fled together, For should he find us in the glen, My blood would stain the heather. ``His horsemen hard behind us ride; Should they our steps discover, Then who will cheer my bonny bride When they have slain her lover?''-- Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,-- ``I'll go, my chief--I'm ready:-- It is not for your silver bright; But for your winsome lady: ``And by my word! the bonny bird In danger shall not tarry; So, though the waves are raging white, I'll row you o'er the ferry.''-- By this the storm grew loud apace, The water-wraith was shrieking; And in the scowl of heaven each face Grew dark as they were speaking. But still as wilder blew the wind, And as the night grew drearer, Adown the glen rode armèd men, Their trampling sounded nearer.-- ``O haste thee, haste!'' the lady cries, ``Though tempests round us gather; I'll meet the raging of the skies, But not an angry father.''-- The boat has left a stormy land, A stormy sea before her,-- When, O! too strong for human hand, The tempest gather'd o'er her. And still they row'd amidst the roar Of waters fast prevailing: Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,-- His wrath was changed to wailing. For, sore dismay'd through storm and shade, His child he did discover:-- One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid, And one was round her lover. ``Come back! come back!'' he cried in grief ``Across this stormy water: And I'll forgive your Highland chief, My daughter!--O my daughter!'' 'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore, Return or aid preventing: The waters wild went o'er his child, And he was left lamenting.

  3. A Daughter Of Eve

    A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily. My garden-plot I have not kept; Faded and all-forsaken, I weep as I have never wept: Oh it was summer when I slept, It's winter now I waken. Talk what you please of future spring And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow: Stripp'd bare of hope and everything, No more to laugh, no more to sing, I sit alone with sorrow.

  4. Daughter

    Why is the world at peace. This may astonish you a little but when you realise how easily Mrs. Charles Bianco sells the work of American painters to American millionaires you will recognize that authorities are constrained to be relieved. Let me tell you a story. A painter loved a woman. A musician did not sing. A South African loved books. An American was a woman and needed help. Are Americans the same as incubators. But this is the rest of the story. He became an authority.