Pablo Neruda
Chilean poet and politician (1904-1973)
The numbers
2 + 4 = 6
Lo Shu grid
Missing: 3, 5, 8. Present digits repeat to show how many times they occur.
Life path 6 — The Caretaker
Six is read as the number of responsibility — family, service, the assumption that if something needs doing for someone else you are the one who does it. The tradition treats it warmly and then names the trap plainly: care given without limit becomes control, and the person who is always needed rarely learns to ask. Six is described as the number most likely to be exhausted and least likely to say so.
Complete lines
Line of Reason
A complete line in the grid.
Cooperation
A complete line in the grid.
Care
A complete line in the grid.
What is missing
Missing 3
Read as difficulty getting the inner picture out — the thought is complete, the expression lags. Often described in people whose written voice is far stronger than their spoken one.
Missing 5
The centre of the grid, so its absence is weighted heavily. Read as difficulty adapting mid-course — a preference for the plan already chosen over the plan now indicated.
Missing 8
Read as discomfort with power and money — not incapacity, but an unwillingness to claim authority openly.
Vedic — Ank Jyotish
Moolank 3 comes from the day of the month alone; Bhagyank 6 from the whole date. They differ, which is the ordinary case — the two numbers answer different questions.
Guru
Jupiter. Expansion, teaching, counsel. Read as the most benefic assignment in the set.
Bhagyank uses the same arithmetic as the Western life path, so the two will always agree. That is not two traditions confirming each other — it is one calculation under two names.
In their words
Debajo de tu piel vive la luna.
Mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada
¿Sabes que en las calles no hay nadiey adentro de las casas tampoco?'Sólo hay ojos en las ventanas.Si no tienes dònde dormirtoca una puerta y te abrirán,te abrirán hasta cierto puntoy verás que hace frío adentro,que aquella casa está vacía,y no quiere nada contigo,no valen nada tus historias,y si insistes con tu ternurate muerden el perro y el gato.
Y algo golpeaba en mi alma,fiebre o alas perdidas,y me fui haciendo solo,descifrandoaquella quemaduray escribí la primera línea vaga,vaga, sin cuerpo, pura,tonteríapura sabiduríadel que no sabe nada,y vi de prontoel cielodesgranadoy abierto.
Allí en Rangoon comprendí que los dioseseran tan enemigos como Diosdel pobre ser humano.Diosesde alabastro tendidoscomo ballenas blancas,dioses dorados como las espigas,dioses serpientes enroscadosal crimen de nacer,budhas desnudos y elegantessonriendo en el coktailde la vacía eternidadcomo Cristo en su cruz horrible,todos dispuestos a todo,a imponernos su cielo,todos con llagas o pistolapara comprar piedad o quemarnos la sangre,dioses feroces del hombrepara esconder la cobardía,y allí todo era así,toda la tierra olía a cielo,a mercadería celeste.
Es la hora, amor mío, de apartar esta rosa sombría,cerrar las estrellas, enterrar la ceniza en la tierra:y, en la insurrección de la luz, despertar con los que despertarono seguir en el sueño alcanzando la otra orilla del mar que no tiene otra orilla.
Sourced from Wikiquote, restricted to the subject’s own sourced sections.