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Perhaps this war will pass like the others which divided us leaving us dead, killing us along with the killers but the shame of this time puts its burning fingers to our faces. Who will erase the ruthlessness hidden in innocent blood?

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
Others
Pass
Divided
Time
Leaving
Puts
Like
Along
Hidden
Perhaps
Burning
Dead
Innocent
Blood
Fingers
Ruthlessness
Faces
Shame
Erase
War
Killing
Killers

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What did the tree learn from the earth to be able to talk with the sky?
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What did the earth teach the trees? How to speak to the sky.
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I have named you queen. There are taller than you, taller. There are purer than you, purer. There are lovelier than you, lovelier. But you are the queen.
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Poetry is an act of peace.
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To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.
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I love you between shadow and soul. I love you as the plant that hasn't bloomed yet, and carries hidden within itself the light of flowers. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. Because of you, the dense fragrance that rises from the earth lives in my body, rioting with hunger for the eternity of our victorious kisses.
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Cómo se acuerda con los pájaros la traducción de sus idiomas?
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Political poetry is more profoundly emotional than any other-at least as much as love poetry-and cannot be forced because then it becomes vulgar and unacceptable. It is necessary first to pan though all other poetry in order to become a political poet.
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Is 4 the same 4 for everybody? Are all sevens equal? When the convict ponders the light is it the same light that shines on you?
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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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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.
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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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Love! Love until the night collapses!
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Where were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away?
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I believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.
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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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Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
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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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O merry, merry, merry, like only dogs know how to be happy and nothing more, with an absolute shameless nature.
Pablo Neruda