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When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight?
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
Flight
Towards
Mines
Mine
Bring
Hands
Love
Leap
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The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
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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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I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.
Pablo Neruda
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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Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.
Pablo Neruda
It was at that age that poetry came in search of me.
Pablo Neruda
I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.
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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
What can I say without touching the earth with my hands?
Pablo Neruda
In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.
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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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Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank!
Pablo Neruda
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.
Pablo Neruda
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.
Pablo Neruda
And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.
Pablo Neruda
From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.
Pablo Neruda
With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea?
Pablo Neruda
There's a country spread out in the sky, a credulous carpet of rainbows and crepuscular plants: I move toward it just a bit haggardly, trampling a gravedigger's rubble still moist from the spade to dream in a bedlam of vegetables.
Pablo Neruda
Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.
Pablo Neruda
Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.
Pablo Neruda
