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Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.

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
Solitude
Hour
Hours
Happiness
Nostalgia

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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Cómo se acuerda con los pájaros la traducción de sus idiomas?
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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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I built up these lumber piles of love, and with fourteen boards each I built little houses, so that your eyes, which I adore and sing to, might live in them. Now that I have declared the foundations of my love, I surrender this century to you: wooden sonnets that rise only because you gave them life.
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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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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.
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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.
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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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Am I allowed to ask my book / whether it's true I wrote it?
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The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
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But when I call for a hero, out comes my lazy old self so I never know who I am, nor how many I am or will be. I'd love to be able to touch a bell and summon the real me, because if I really need myself, I mustn't disappear.
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I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.
Pablo Neruda
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Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.
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About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you
Pablo Neruda
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You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring.
Pablo Neruda
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From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.
Pablo Neruda
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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.
Pablo Neruda
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Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?
Pablo Neruda
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Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.
Pablo Neruda
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Tomorrow we will only give them a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf which will fall on the earth like if it had been made by our lips like a kiss which falls from our invincible heights to show the fire and the tenderness of a true love.
Pablo Neruda