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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
Truth
Confinement
Expert
Solitary
Experts
Romantic
Fool
Death

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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How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running. So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.
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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.
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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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I do not love you-except because I love you I go from loving to not loving you, from waiting to not waiting for you my heart moves from the cold into the fire.
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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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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.
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Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.
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What did the earth teach the trees? How to speak to the sky.
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What did the tree learn from the earth to be able to talk with the sky?
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I walked around as you do, investigating the endless star, and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.
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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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I don't know who it is who lives or dies, who rests or wakes, but it is your heart that distributes all the graces of the daybreak in my breast.
Pablo Neruda
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Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?
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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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I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything, I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic shops, and courtyards with washing hanging from the line: underwear, towels and shirts from which slow dirty tears are falling.
Pablo Neruda
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And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?
Pablo Neruda
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Two things make a story. The net and the air that falls through the net.
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Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank!
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I move in the university of the waves.
Pablo Neruda