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I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.

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
Eye
Rage
Serenely
Everything
Shoes
Stroll
Walking
Sauntering
Along
Trekking
Journey
Strolling
Walks
Forgetting
Eyes
Hiking
Forget
Wander

More quotes by 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.
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Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?
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I'm not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.
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I say love, and the world populates itself with doves.
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Someone will ask later, sometimes searching for a name, his own or someone's else's why I neglected his sadness or his love... But I didn't have enough time or ink for everyone. Or maybe it was the strain of the city, of time the cold heart of the clocks.
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If suddenly you do not exist, If suddenly you are not living, I shall go on living. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you die. I shall go on living.
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Love, how many roads to obtain a kiss.
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The typewriter separated me from a deeper intimacy with poetry, and my hand brought me closer to that intimacy again.
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Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.
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I am a book of snow, a spacious hand, an open meadow, a circle that waits, I belong to the earth and its winter.
Pablo Neruda
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Then Scale by scale, We strip off The delicacy And eat The peaceful mush Of its green heart.
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I was the owner of my own darkness.
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Oh love, rose made wet by mermaids and foams, fire that dances and climbs up the invisible stairs and awakens the blood in the tunnel of sleeplessness.
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Your house sounds like a train at midday, the wasps buzz, the saucepans sing, the waterfall enumerates the deeds of the dew . . .
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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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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.
Pablo Neruda
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I should like to sleep like a cat, with all the fur of time, with a tongue rough as flint, with the dry sex of fire and after speaking to no one, stretch myself over the world, over roofs and landscapes, with a passionate desire to hunt the rats in my dreams.
Pablo Neruda
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When I sleep every night, what am I called or not called? And when I wake, who am I if I was not I while I slept?
Pablo Neruda
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Hands make the world each day.
Pablo Neruda
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Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
Pablo Neruda