Confieso que he vivido

I have looked through my shelves and found one of my favorite books. All yellowed, brittle and with a good layer of dust, my paperback copy of Neruda's memoirs was patiently waiting my return. Certainly by book doesn't look like the photo I have included here, mine is the third edition of the book, yet I have added it here to add some visuals to my yes, very boring blog.
I bought the book on a whim, one day while at the university, read it and marked it all over.
I'm trusting Neruda to paint a picture of Chile for me, to come in to me as I visit his thin country, and open my soul to receive it.