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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
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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
Like
Rivers
Raindrops
Rain
Timber
Poet
Hill
Poetry
River
Took
Hills
Grew
Forests
Voice
Town
Born
Towns
Steeped
More quotes by Pablo Neruda
so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.
Pablo Neruda
I believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.
Pablo Neruda
I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Pablo Neruda
I had no more alphabet than the journeying of the swallows, the pure and tiny water of the small, fiery bird that dances rising from the pollen.
Pablo Neruda
And I, infinitesimal being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, I felt myself a pure part of the abyss, I wheeled with the stars, my heart broke loose on the wind.
Pablo Neruda
Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.
Pablo Neruda
Oh to follow the road that leads away from everything, without anguish, death, winter waiting along it with their eyes open through the dew.
Pablo Neruda
Perhaps this war will pass like the others which divided us leaving us dead, killing us along with the killers but the shame of this time puts its burning fingers to our faces. Who will erase the ruthlessness hidden in innocent blood?
Pablo Neruda
Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
Pablo Neruda
Political poetry is more profoundly emotional than any other-at least as much as love poetry-and cannot be forced because then it becomes vulgar and unacceptable. It is necessary first to pan though all other poetry in order to become a political poet.
Pablo Neruda
The morning is full of storm in the heart of summer. The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye, the wind, travelling, waving them in its hands. The numberless heart of the wind beating above our loving silence. Orchestral and divine, resounding among the trees like a language full of wars and songs.
Pablo Neruda
There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.
Pablo Neruda
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance climbed up through my conscious mind as if suddenly the roots I had left behind cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood - and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
Pablo Neruda
For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.
Pablo Neruda
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.
Pablo Neruda
The books that help you most are those which make you think that most. The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.
Pablo Neruda
Poetry arrived in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don't know how or when.
Pablo Neruda
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.
Pablo Neruda
Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.
Pablo Neruda
Love has to be…flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.
Pablo Neruda