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A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.

Pablo Neruda

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Pablo Neruda
Age: 69 †
Born: 1904
Born: July 12
Died: 1973
Died: September 23
Author
Autobiographer
Diplomat
Lyricist
Poet
Politician
Senator Of Chile
Nieh-lu-ta
Neftalí Reyes Basoalto
Pamplo Nerouda
Neftalí Ricardo Reyes
Bāblū Nīrūdā
Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto
Nieluda
Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto
Neftali Reyes Basualto
Neftali Reyes Basoalto
Neftali Ricardo Reyes
Neftalí Reyes Basualto
Pāplō Nerūda
Men
Missing
Forever
Child
Lost
Doesn
Childlike
Doe
Terribly
Play
Miss
Children
Lived

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.
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I want to see thirst In the syllables, Tough fire In the sound Feel through the dark For the scream.
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You & I, Love, together we ratify the silence, while the sea destroys its perpetual statues, collapses its towers of wild speed and whiteness: because in the weavings of those invisible fabrics, galloping water, incessant sand, we make the only permanent tenderness.
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Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress? Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots? Who hears the regrets of the thieving automobile? Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?
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And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain.
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I have slept with you all night long while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow my arm encircled your waist. Neither night nor sleep could separate us.
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I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.
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I have never thought of my life as divided between poetry and politics.
Pablo Neruda
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The bare earth, plantless, waterless, is an immense puzzle. In the forests or beside rivers everything speaks to humans. The desert does not speak. I could not comprehend its tongue its silence...
Pablo Neruda
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From scarlet to powdered gold, to blazing yellow, to the rare ashen emerald, to the orange and black velvet of your shimmering corselet, out to the tip that like an amber thorn begins you, small, superlative being, you are a miracle, and you blaze
Pablo Neruda
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I spin on the circle of wave upon wave of the sea.
Pablo Neruda
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I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Pablo Neruda
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And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy.
Pablo Neruda
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I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter.
Pablo Neruda
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Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
Pablo Neruda
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Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south? Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.
Pablo Neruda
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My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.
Pablo Neruda
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And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.
Pablo Neruda
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What did the tree learn from the earth to be able to talk with the sky?
Pablo Neruda
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Nobody can claim the name of Pedro, nobody is Rosa or María, all of us are dust or sand, all of us are rain under rain. They have spoken to me of Venezuelas, of Chiles and Paraguays I have no idea what they are saying. I know only the skin of the earth and I know it has no name.
Pablo Neruda