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The Truth is in the prolouge. Death to the romantic fool., the expert in solitary confinement.

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
Romantic
Fool
Death
Truth
Confinement
Expert
Solitary
Experts

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.
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And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?
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Fue adondo a mi me perdieron quw logre por fin encontrarme? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself?
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I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty.
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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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What did the tree learn from the earth to be able to talk with the sky?
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O merry, merry, merry, like only dogs know how to be happy and nothing more, with an absolute shameless nature.
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What can I say without touching the earth with my hands?
Pablo Neruda
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With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea?
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In love, you have loosened yourself like seawater
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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.
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In the distance someone is singing.
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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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If suddenly you do not exist, If suddenly you are not living, I shall go on living. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you die. I shall go on living.
Pablo Neruda
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I move in the university of the waves.
Pablo Neruda
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Someone will ask later, sometimes searching for a name, his own or someone's else's why I neglected his sadness or his love... But I didn't have enough time or ink for everyone. Or maybe it was the strain of the city, of time the cold heart of the clocks.
Pablo Neruda
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Cómo se acuerda con los pájaros la traducción de sus idiomas?
Pablo Neruda
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As slippery as smooth grapes, words exploding in the light like dormant seeds waiting in the vaults of vocabulary, alive again, and giving life: once again the heart distills them.
Pablo Neruda
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The road made wet by the water of August shines like it was cut in full moonlight
Pablo Neruda
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I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
Pablo Neruda