The unknown one

I want to measure the many things I don't know
and that's how I arrive
aimlessly, I knock and they open, I enter and see
yesterday's pictures on the walls,
the dining room of the man and the woman,
armchairs, beds, saltcellars.
Only then do I understand
that they don't know me.
I go out and I don't know what streets I'm walking,
nor how many poor and tantalising women,
workers of various breeds
and far from satisfactory rewards.

P.Neruda