A Dream of Trains.

• Author: Neruda, Pablo
• Position: Poem

A DREAM OF TRAINS The trains were dreaming in the station, defenceless, engineless, asleep. I entered dubiously at dawn. I went looking for secrets, things left behind in the wagons, in the leftover smell of the journey. Among those who had left, I felt myself alone in the motionless train. The air was thick, a block of abandoned conversations and passing depressions-- lost souls in the corridors like keys without locks fallen under the seats. Women travelling from the South, laden with bunches of flowers and chickens; perhaps they were murdered, perhaps they came back and wept, perhaps they consumed the carriages with their carnations' fire, perhaps I am travelling, along with them, perhaps the steam of the journey, the wet rails, perhaps everything lives in the stationary train, and I am a sleeping passenger waking up suddenly in misery. I was in my seat and the train was running through my body, breaking down my frontiers-suddenly, it...