Quote

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second, my dearest.

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
Leave
Silhouettes
May
Eyelids
Never
Dearest
Dissolve
Beach
Distance
Empty
Silhouette
Second
Flutter

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Who do I belong to? How come I mortgaged my being till I don't belong to myself? How come I sold my blood? And who now owns my indecisions, my hands, my private pain, my pride?
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I ask permission to be like everybody else,like the rest of the world and what's more, like anybody else:I beg you, with all my heart,if we are talking about me, since we are talking about me,please resist blasting the trumpet during my visitand resign yourselves to my quiet absence.
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Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.
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The Truth is in the prolouge. Death to the romantic fool., the expert in solitary confinement.
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And our problems will crumble apart, the soul / blow through like a wind, and here where we live will all be clean again, with fresh bread on the table.
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Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.
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Under your skin the moon is alive.
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The Ardent Hymn that Unites Peoples.
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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.
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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
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Poetry arrived in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where it came from, from winter or a river. I don't know how or when.
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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living.
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O happy childhood! blessed youth! But once we know thy potent power But once we live all careless free No cross to mar our love-lit bower.
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Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.
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And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain.
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Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart - a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.
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sometimes i get up at dawn, and even my soul is wet.
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Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.
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You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring.
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