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

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.
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With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea?
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Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying, everything is absorbed through weather and the sea, and the moon swam back, its rays all silvered, and time and again the darkness would be broken by the crash of a wave, and every day on the balcony of the sea, wings open, fire is born, and everything is blue again like morning.
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And I, infinitesima­l being, drunk with the great starry void, likeness, image of mystery, I felt myself a pure part of the abyss, I wheeled with the stars, my heart broke loose on the wind.
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Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?
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Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
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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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From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.
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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 want to see thirst In the syllables, Tough fire In the sound Feel through the dark For the scream.
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I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.
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Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness, and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.
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Let us look for secret things somewhere in the world on the blue shore of silence or where the storm has passed rampaging like a train. There the faint signs are left, coins of time and water, debris ,celestial ash and the irreplaceable rapture of sharing in the labour of soitude in the sand.
Pablo Neruda
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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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I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.
Pablo Neruda
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I do not love you-except because I love you I go from loving to not loving you, from waiting to not waiting for you my heart moves from the cold into the fire.
Pablo Neruda
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And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?
Pablo Neruda
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Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter.
Pablo Neruda
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Am I allowed to ask my book / whether it's true I wrote it?
Pablo Neruda
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Whom can I ask what I came to make happen in this world? Why do I move without wanting to, why am I not able to sit still? Why do I go rolling without wheels, flying without wings or feathers, and why did I decide to migrate if my bones live in Chile?
Pablo Neruda