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Love is a clash of lightnings

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
Clash
Lightning
Love

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The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.
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In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.
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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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Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.
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About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you
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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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I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.
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Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?
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Under your skin the moon is alive.
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Look around—there's only one thing of danger for you here—poetry.
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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.
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And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?
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For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.
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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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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 move in the university of the waves.
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The Ardent Hymn that Unites Peoples.
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Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations.
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Laughter is the language of the soul.
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Your house sounds like a train at midday, the wasps buzz, the saucepans sing, the waterfall enumerates the deeds of the dew . . .
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