by Pablo Neruda
III
Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?
Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?
Who hears the regrets
of the thieving automobile?
Is there anything in the world sadder
than a train standing in the rain?
From The Book of Questions, William O’Daly, translator, Port Townsend, Washington, Copper Canyon Press, 2001, page 3. The last question (above) is my favourite Neruda passage, which also echoes with the Japanese notion of sabi.