Quote

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.

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
Littles
Hour
Roams
Little
Leave
Choking
Even
Looking
Drift
Heart
Hours
Drops
Love
Lost
Choke
Running
Anguish
Together
Crush
Home
Smoke

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Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.
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My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.
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I move in the university of the waves.
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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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About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you
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I should like to sleep like a cat, with all the fur of time, with a tongue rough as flint, with the dry sex of fire and after speaking to no one, stretch myself over the world, over roofs and landscapes, with a passionate desire to hunt the rats in my dreams.
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The Ardent Hymn that Unites Peoples.
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Laughter is the language of the soul.
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The books that help you most are those which make you think that most. The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.
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With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea?
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From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.
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Two things make a story. The net and the air that falls through the net.
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Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities? Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles?
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The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
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He who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly.
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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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Sometimes a piece of sun burned like a coin in my hand.
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You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring.
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Am I allowed to ask my book / whether it's true I wrote it?
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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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