Ode to my socks

by Pablo Neruda
AINI
ADILA
PINKY
Maru Mori brought me
a pair of socks
which she knitted herself
with her sheepherder's hands,
two socks as soft as rabbits.
I slipped my feet into them
as if they were two cases
knitted with threads of twilight and
goatskin,
Violent socks,
my feet were two fish made of wool,
two long sharks
sea blue, shot through
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons,
my feet were honored in this way
by these heavenly socks.
They were so handsome for the first time
my feet seemed to me unacceptable
like two decrepit firemen,
firemen unworthy of that woven fire,
of those glowing socks.
Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation The moral of my ode is this:
to save them somewhere as schoolboys beauty is twice beauty
keep fireflies, and what is good is doubly good
as learned men collect when it is a matter of two socks
sacred texts, made of wool in winter.
I resisted the mad impulse to put them
in a golden cage and each day give them
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
I stretched out my feet and pulled on
the magnificent socks and then my shoes.
ANALYSIS OF THE POEM
 1) SYMBOLISM, IMAGERY
Animal Imagery
• The animals in this poem are all beautifully described and used as metaphors for the
woollen socks. The idea is that the socks come to life—like real, live animals—through
the use of figurative language. Notice that there are animals from all over: the sea, the
sky, and the earth. This really anchors the socks in the natural world from various angles,
and also makes it easy for almost anyone to relate.
• Lines 6-7: The first animals to show up are rabbits, and they are used in a simile to
describe the texture of the socks, which is really soft. Mentioning the way that the socks
feel, in addition to how they look, gives the poem more dimensions as it uses more of
the five senses.
• Lines 17-19: Here it's not the socks that are being compared to animals, but the
speaker's feet. They become, when wearing the socks, two woollen fish. This has to do
with how they look— probably kind of long and skinny—and also how they feel, which is
woollen. The clash in the terms "woollen" and "fish" has the effect of reminding the
reader that this is a metaphor.
• Lines 20-21: The fish-feet transform into "two long sharks / of lapis blue." This is an extension
of the previous metaphor, now being more specific about what type of fish we're dealing with
and what color the socks-sharks are.
• Line 24: From the sea to the sky, now the feet are gigantic birds: "two mammoth blackbirds."
This tells us more about the color of the yarn, but also continues the idea of the speaker's feet
having wild, unrestrained freedom—as fish, as sharks, and now as a birds.
• Lines 46-52: Through another simile, the socks are here compared to fireflies, because the
speaker thinks they are so beautiful that it would be better to save them, like children who trap
fireflies in a bottle. The thing is, though, as any ex-child knows, fireflies don't last long trapped
in a jar. The socks are meant to be free, or, as it were, worn.
• Lines 56-63: Here the socks are compared to caged bids in a metaphor. This extends the idea of
the trapped fireflies. If the speaker were to save the socks and never wear them, they would be
like beautiful pets, but wouldn't be free.
• Lines 63-69: Finally, we get back to the forest and the socks are like a poor little deer that was
killed and eaten in order for explorers to survive. Even if the hunters regret having to kill the
deer (or, in this case, wear the socks), it's necessary for their survival.
LIGHT AND DARK IMAGERY
• Symbol Analysis
• These aren't your everyday, run-of-the-mill socks gang. Their craft inspires our speaker, who spends a lot of
time describing the socks in terms of light and darkness. No, it's not like someone's suddenly invented socks
to go along with those kids' shoes that light up when you run in them. (They are cool, we must admit.) In the
case of this poem, the light of the socks comes to represent their impact on the speaker, and the power they
hold over his imagination (not to mention, his feet!).

• Lines 13-15: The socks are described as "woven / with threads of / dusk." This is a really poetic description,
which differs from the matter-of-fact subject of the poem. The juxtaposition of this fantastic dusk-thread
with the ordinary "sheep's wool" is a great way to understand the poem, which is out to make elements of
the everyday poetic.
• Lines 26-33: These lines call the socks "celestial," having to do with the sky or heaven. In fact, the socks are
so elevated that they give honor to the speaker's feet just by being worn. In this case, the light associated
with these socks is a holy or sacred thing.
• Lines 39-45: Now the socks are lit-up all the way—they're a "woven fire" and "luminous." While before the
light-dark imagery referred to dusk (which is the end of the light of day) and things celestial (anything to do
with the sky), this is full-on brightness. Full on! The socks have completely surpassed everything around
them with their beauty, especially the speaker's feet.
COLOR IMAGERY
• Sure, this may be a small, straightforward poem about socks, but that doesn't mean that this is a dull, humdrum reflection. Nope.
The thing is, this speaker really, really likes these socks—as the poem details for us. On top of all the metaphorical ways he thinks
about them, he also finds all sorts of color in them. The vibrant, colorful imagery associated with the socks is just another way for
the speaker to demonstrate his excitement about, and appreciation for, these two tootsie-warmers. Yay, socks!

• Lines 21-22: The feet in these lines become lapis blue sharks. Lapis conjures up all sorts of beautiful blues, and also might make
you think of the lapis philosophorum—the philosopher's stone—which gives alchemists the power to transform minerals into gold,
or, as the case may be, feet into sharks.
• Lines 23-24: The sharks from the previous lines are "shot / with a golden thread." The thread reminds us that we're dealing with
socks, even among all the willy-nilly transformations, and the golden color gives the socks value. Even though they're ordinary,
woolen footwear, this shot of gold makes them fit for a king.
• Line 25: The feet are now blackbirds, and the color-specific species makes you wonder just what color these socks are. They've
gone from blue to gold to black, and all this color changing is just part of the magical transformations taking place in this poem.
• Lines 32-33: The socks are called "celestial," which is a reference to the sky or the heavens, but is also the name for sky-blue in
Spanish. The socks are almost like a precious jewel that changes color as the light hits it.
• Lines 59-60: The gold is back! This time it's part of a birdcage made of gold. Golden cages are a common theme in poetry, and
usually have to do with a rich person who is sad or bored with their riches, because they feel trapped. Here the speaker doesn't go
the poor little rich girl route, and instead frees the socks from a golden doom.
• Line 63: The melon in this line sounds delicious—those socks would have had a good life in the cage! But maybe the rosy pink
melon flesh is a reference to another kind of flesh. Perhaps the speaker feels like he wants to save his socks for when his feet are
perfectly fresh and powdered, but he knows that's not going to happen, so he sticks the stinky feet right in.
2) FORM AND METER
• Free Verse
• Form and meter? We hate to break it to you, but this poem isn't in a specific form or meter. Did Neruda leave his poetry cap at home the day he wrote
this? Nope. We think not. More likely is that this poem is a challenge to the traditional ode. The ancient Greeks and Romans followed complicated
formats to write their odes, but here Neruda just throws that out and writes in short, choppy lines.

• The enjambment, or mid-sentence line breaks, are what creates this short, choppy style. One thing this does is make you keep reading the long, run-
on sentences, since there are no stopping points. It's like a long, woolen thread. The other thing it does is visually make the poem look like a long,
skinny sock hanging on the page. What's more, these short lines are also very easy to follow, almost in an exaggerated way. Just check out line 74:
"the." Right. Got it. How about line 77? "And." Woah, woah! Cool your jets there, Pablo! Our brains can only take so much.

• Well, our guess is that Pablo knew that already, and he was writing against the long, super-intricate, jammed-full-of-allusions kind of lines that keep
poor English students up at night. Instead, here we get lines that are short, and simple—to the extreme.

• The general structure of the poem, too, is super-simple. The poem is divided into four stanzas, and each one has its own theme. The first one
introduces the socks, the second compares them to lots of beautiful things, the third one talks about wanting to save them instead of ruining them by
wearing them, and the fourth one gives the moral of the ode. No flashbacks, no mysteries—just a dude giving us a straightforward love poem to his
socks.

• Neruda's emphasis on simplicity, and his insistence against old forms, also explains why the poem has no rhyme. Here again, we have another
departure from tradition. For an ode—one of the most classic forms of poetry—this poem is certainly doing its own thing! All of these nontraditional
elements are ways that this ode rejects elitist, snobby poetry and tries to bring poetry back—to the people!
3) SPEAKER
• It's really tempting here to call the speaker Neruda himself, because of the reference to Maru Mori (see "Shout-Outs" for more on
her), his actual friend who knitted the beloved socks. However, that's really the only clue linking the speaker to Neruda, and since
we can't be sure that he was Maru Mori's only friend (she probably knitted socks for other people too, or maybe the whole thing
was invented), we can't call the speaker Neruda with any degree of certainty.

• What we do know is that the speaker was someone lucky enough to get a semi-famous person to knit them some socks, so that
tells us that the speaker is probably in the intellectual or artistic circles of Chile (again, check out "Shout-Outs" for the skinny on
Maru Mori). More than that, though, we can also infer that the speaker is someone who feels strongly about those handmade
socks and wants to exalt them in a poem, while always reminding the reader of their real-life usefulness.

• In this kind of praise, then, we can understand the speaker as someone who really appreciates craft, human creation, charity, and
usefulness. In other words, this is not some high-falutin' fellow (we can just assume the speaker's a "he") who rushes off to the
mountain top to praise the sun for rising. No, he's got his eye on the lived materials of daily life. Even there, or especially there, he
finds things to appreciate. As readers, we're invited to explore that same kind of gratitude right along with him, which we think is
just super-refreshing. Rather than grumbling about your latest iDevice because it doesn't edit 3-D movies as quickly as you'd like,
try to appreciate the simpler things in life, things that come from the heart—like our speaker's socks!
ALLUSIONS
• When poets refer to other great works, people, and events, it’s
usually not accidental. Put on your super-sleuth hat and figure out
why.

• Cultural References
• Maru Mori: She was the wife and muse of Chilean painter, Camilo
Mori, and a friend of Neruda's. Her full name was Maruja Vargas de
Mori. (1)