I really need some help with these essays! Thank you
Share with us a few of your favorite books, poems, authors, films, plays, pieces of music, musicians, performers, paintings, artists, blogs, magazines, or newspapers. Feel free to touch on one, some, or all of the categories listed, or add a category of your own.
I used to write poetry a long time ago, when I believed that Santa Clause would come in December. My favorite poet is Pablo Neruda. I discovered the magic of his writing last summer, in which I spent two months in my home-country. Although I had an amazing reunion with my friends, my dad and my sister, after a few weeks they re-assumed their usual routines. Living in a country without internet and with only five channels in the TV, is not easy, after a couple of hours you have nothing to do. Out of my deep boredom, I decided to explore the old library of the house; I had never entered it before, I thought that the books it contained were to heavy and deep for me to hold, however after I opened the doors of the first bookshelf, I understood, that I had just enter paradise. The titles found in the book covers were diverse, ranging from the "Arts of the Mathematics" to "What to do when you fall in Love?” however, the one that captivated my attention was "Collections of Poems" by Pablo Neruda. I had heard the name of the poet before in my Spanish class, and in a couple of love songs, but that was nothing compared to the exquisite poetry he had created. I looked at the first page of the book, and I was in love. The first poem was called poem 20. In it, the speaker addressed a lost love, comparing it to the duration of the night. I was instantly lost in the cloud of feelings, created by the rainbow of tones and moods in the poem, the sadness, the melancholia, the nostalgia, but most importantly the love. I identified with the poem, each line reminded me of my lost love, the one I only got see once a year, and as the night, her presence was so brief, that sometimes I didn’t know if she loved me. Cuba is my love; the place where I’ll always see Santa Clause’ sleigh. The rest of that summer, I allowed myself to get lost into the feelings of Neruda, into his sometimes insane poems, which allowed me to experience an adventure without the necessity of going anywhere. My discovery of Neruda restored in me a passion that I thought it was lost: Poetry.
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