The Lion

....
It found only solitude,
it roared, out of uncertainty and hunger -
the only thing to eat was air,
the wild foam of the coast,
....

The third and (for the moment) final poem from Penguin's Selected Poems by Pablo Neruda. This is an allegorical poem, the deeper meaning of which is completely lost to me without knowing the historical/political/cultural background; yet that doesn't detract from the beauty of his phrasing or the magnitude of the lion's journey from wild, raging beast to garden ornament.