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Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

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
Forgetting
Short
Forget
Pain
Long
Love

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring.
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Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.
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Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities? Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles?
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I should like to sleep like a cat, with all the fur of time, with a tongue rough as flint, with the dry sex of fire and after speaking to no one, stretch myself over the world, over roofs and landscapes, with a passionate desire to hunt the rats in my dreams.
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And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?
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How much does a man live, after all?/ Does he live a thousand days, or one only? For a week, or for several centuries?/ How long does a man spend dying?/ What does it mean to say 'for ever'?
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O happy childhood! blessed youth! But once we know thy potent power But once we live all careless free No cross to mar our love-lit bower.
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Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity, your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages, and a genital fire, transformed by delight, slips through the narrow channels of blood to precipitate a nocturnal carnation, to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.
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There's a country spread out in the sky, a credulous carpet of rainbows and crepuscular plants: I move toward it just a bit haggardly, trampling a gravedigger's rubble still moist from the spade to dream in a bedlam of vegetables.
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
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Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
Pablo Neruda
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In you is the illusion of each day. You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers. You undermine the horizon with your absence. Eternally in flight like the wave.
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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There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.
Pablo Neruda
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I spin on the circle of wave upon wave of the sea.
Pablo Neruda
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When did the lemons learn the same creed as the sun?
Pablo Neruda
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I love you between shadow and soul. I love you as the plant that hasn't bloomed yet, and carries hidden within itself the light of flowers. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. Because of you, the dense fragrance that rises from the earth lives in my body, rioting with hunger for the eternity of our victorious kisses.
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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 have never thought of my life as divided between poetry and politics.
Pablo Neruda
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Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit.
Pablo Neruda