ode to a large tuna in the market
among the market green,
a bullet
from the ocean
depths,
a swimming projectile.
i saw you,
dead.
all around you
were lettuces,
sea foam
of the earth,
carrots,
grapes,
but
of the ocean
truth,
of the unknown,
of the
unfathomable
shadow, the
depths
of the sea,
the abyss,
only you had survived,
a pitch-black, varnished
witness
to the deepest night.
only you, well-aimed
dark bullet
from the abyss,
mangled at one tip
but constantly
reborn,
at anchor in the current,
winged fins
windmilling
in the swift
flight
of the
marine
shadow,
a mourning arrow,
dart of the sea,
olive, oily fish.
i saw you dead,
a deceased king
of my own ocean,
green
assault, silver
submarine fir,
seed
of seaquakes,
now
only dead remains,
yet
in all the market
yours
was the only
purposeful form
amid
the bewildering rout
of nature;
amid the fragile greens
you were
a solitary ship,
armed
among the vegetables
fin and prow black and oiled,
as if you were still
the vessel of the wind,
the one and only
pure
ocean
machine:
unflawed, navigating
the waters of death.
_Pablo Neruda
Chilean poet who sang life,
the sea, mountains, the abyss_
big and small animals, bees, flowers.
love, simple things_his country,
our planet.
__Tunafish as a specie is now
in peril off the Land of France_
in the Mediterranean Sea.
A large Tuna at the International Fish Market
in France NOW sells for 150.000 €. Japan is the
main buyer.
