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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
Voice
Town
Born
Towns
Steeped
Like
Rivers
Raindrops
Rain
Timber
Poet
Hill
Poetry
River
Took
Hills
Grew
Forests
More quotes by Pablo Neruda
I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.
Pablo Neruda
Under your skin the moon is alive.
Pablo Neruda
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.
Pablo Neruda
Fue adondo a mi me perdieron quw logre por fin encontrarme? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself?
Pablo Neruda
I'm not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.
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
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
Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.
Pablo Neruda
I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines...Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her.
Pablo Neruda
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
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'?
Pablo Neruda
Oh love, rose made wet by mermaids and foams, fire that dances and climbs up the invisible stairs and awakens the blood in the tunnel of sleeplessness.
Pablo Neruda
Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.
Pablo Neruda
Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand.
Pablo Neruda
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
To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.
Pablo Neruda
Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
Pablo Neruda
I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.
Pablo Neruda
Two things make a story. The net and the air that falls through the net.
Pablo Neruda