On the sands of Magellan we found you
weary navigator,
unmoving in the tempest
which so often
your sweet and twofold
breast defied cleaving it
with your nipples.

We raised you once more above the Southern Seas,
but now you were
the passenger of the obscure,
of the corners,
equal to the wheat and metal you kept
on the high seas, wrapped in the maritime night.

....

-Pablo Neruda-