Shouting Until I Die Of Cold

Today while reading the words of the poet Pablo Neruda, I came upon these lines:

"Just the same it would be delicious
to scare a notary with a cut lily
or knock a nun stone dead with one blow of an ear.
It would be beautiful
to go through the streets with a green knife
shouting until I died of cold."

"Sin embargo seria delicioso
asustar a un notario con un lirio cortado
o dar muerte a una monja con un golpe de oreja.
Seria bello
ir por las calles con un cuchillo verde
y dando gritos hasta morir de frio."

. . . and contemplate the mind that could conjure these words and these images.