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Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

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
Give
Giving
Volcanoes
Iron
Silence
Struggle
Water
Hope

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.
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I got lost in the night, without the light of your eyelids, and when the night surrounded me I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness.
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Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand.
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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.
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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.
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Oh each successive night that comes has something in it of an abandoned ember that is slowly burning out, and it falls swathed in ruins, surrounded by funereal objects.
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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.
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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.
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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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Under your skin the moon is alive.
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Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
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
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It was at that age that poetry came in search of me.
Pablo Neruda
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When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight?
Pablo Neruda
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O merry, merry, merry, like only dogs know how to be happy and nothing more, with an absolute shameless nature.
Pablo Neruda
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The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
Pablo Neruda
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I say love, and the world populates itself with doves.
Pablo Neruda
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I want to see the thirst inside the syllables I want to touch the fire in the sound: I want to feel the darkness of the cry. I want words as rough as virgin rocks.” - Verb.
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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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Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank!
Pablo Neruda