Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda
Pablo Nerudawas the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean poet-diplomat and politician Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto. He derived his pen name from the Czech poet Jan Neruda. Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971...
NationalityChilean
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth12 July 1904
CityParral, Chile
CountryChile
love sweet-love night
Love! Love until the night collapses!
stars night wind
I walked around as you do, investigating the endless star, and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.
fool experts truth-is
The Truth is in the prolouge. Death to the romantic fool., the expert in solitary confinement.
fins found lost
Fue adondo a mi me perdieron quw logre por fin encontrarme? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself?
jars oblivion infinite
Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness, and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.
night sea issues
Then I speak to her in a language she has never heard, I speak to her in Spanish, in the tongue of the long, crepuscular verses of Díaz Casanueva; in that language in which Joaquín Edwards preaches nationalism. My discourse is profound; I speak with eloquence and seduction; my words, more than from me, issue from the warm nights, from the many solitary nights on the Red Sea, and when the tiny dancer puts her arm around my neck, I understand that she understands. Magnificent language!
love blood fire
In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.
lakes waiting tears
Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?
ivy long suffering
And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy.
love kissing night
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses.
everyday matter shapes
I am not me but the living matter fermenting and forming it's own shape in the fruitfulness of everyday
sunset soul empty
My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.
love-you twilight tired
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain. I love you still among these cold things. Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels that cross the sea towards no arrival. I see myself forgotten like those old anchors. The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there. My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights. But night comes and starts to sing to me.
dream wall fall
It's hard to tell / if we close our eyes or if night / opens in us other starred eyes, / if it burrows into the wall of our dream / till some other door opens. / But the dream is only the flitting costume of one moment, / is spent in one beat / of the darkness, / and falls at our feet, cast off / as the day stirs and sails away with us.