Quotes by Chilean Writer Pablo Neruda

I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. Pablo Neruda

A bibliophile of little means is likely to suffer often. Books don't slip from his hands but fly past him through the air, high as birds, high as prices. Pablo Neruda

Love Sonnet XI Pablo Neruda

The wordwas born in the blood,grew in the dark body, beating,and took flight through the lips and the mouth.Farther away and nearerstill, still it camefrom dead fathers and from wondering races,from lands which had turned to stone,lands weary of their poor tribes,for when grief took to the roadsthe people set out and arrivedand married new land and waterto grow their words again.And so this is the inheritance;this is the wavelength which connects uswith dead men and the dawningof new beings not yet come to light. Pablo Neruda

The Eighth of September Pablo Neruda

Saddest Poem Pablo Neruda

Clenched Soul Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul. Pablo Neruda

The Night in Isla Negra Pablo Neruda

You are the daughter of the sea,oregano's first cousin.Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;cook, your blood is quick as the soil.Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;you know the deep essence of water and the earth,conjoined in you like a formula for clay.Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.This is how you become everything that lives.And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my armsthat push back the shadows so that you can rest -vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams. Pablo Neruda

Now, on the road to freedom, I was pausing for a moment near Temuco and could hear the voice of the water that had taught me to sing. Pablo Neruda

Poetry is an act of peace. Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread. Pablo Neruda

It was at that age that poetry came in search of me. Pablo Neruda

Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth. Pablo Neruda

The days aren't discarded or collected, they are bees that burned with sweetness or maddened the sting: the struggle continues, the journeys go and come between honey and pain. No, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net. They don't fall drop by drop from a river: there is no river. Sleep doesn't divide life into halves, or action, or silence, or honor: life is like a stone, a single motion, a lonesome bonfire reflected on the leaves, an arrow, only one, slow or swift, a metal that climbs or descends burning in your bones. Pablo Neruda

We the mortals touch the metals, the wind, the ocean shores, the stones, knowing they will go on, inert or burning, and I was discovering, naming all the these things: it was my destiny to love and say goodbye. Pablo Neruda

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us. Pablo Neruda

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close. Pablo Neruda

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. Pablo Neruda

Sucede que me canso de ser hombre. Pablo Neruda

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