Quote

In you is the illusion of each day. You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers. You undermine the horizon with your absence. Eternally in flight like the wave.

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
Absence
Cupped
Wave
Undermine
Illusion
Dew
Flower
Eternally
Like
Arrive
Horizon
Flight
Flowers

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It was at that age that poetry came in search of me.
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Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.
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On our earth, before writing was invented, before the printing press was invented, poetry flourished. That is why we know that poetry is like bread it should be shared by all, by scholars and by peasants, by all our vast, incredible, extraordinary family of humanity.
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Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.
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The Truth is in the prolouge. Death to the romantic fool., the expert in solitary confinement.
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I think it was very informative, but a lot still needs to be done.
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I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
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Love has to be…flowering like the stars, and measureless as a kiss.
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Oh to follow the road that leads away from everything, without anguish, death, winter waiting along it with their eyes open through the dew.
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What did the earth teach the trees? How to speak to the sky.
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Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness, and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.
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Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart - a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.
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The road made wet by the water of August shines like it was cut in full moonlight
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Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
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Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.
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I am made of earth, and my song made of words.
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Love is a clash of lightnings
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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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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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If you no longer live, if you my beloved, my love, if you have died, all the leaves will fall in my breast, it will rain in my soul night and day, the snow will burn my heart, I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow, my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but I shall live
Pablo Neruda