Quote

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body... and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

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
Lovely
Sunbeam
Hungry
Sniffing
Around
Sunbeams
Body
Erotic
Heart
Twilight
Like
Hunting
Pace
Hot
Flaring

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I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
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Give me your hand out of the depths sown by your sorrows.
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Two things make a story. The net and the air that falls through the net.
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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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Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter.
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And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain.
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Every day you play with the light of the universe.
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Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.
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We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses.
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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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We the mortals touch the metals, the wind, the ocean shores, the stones, knowing they will go on, inert or burning, and I was discovering, naming all the these things: it was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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Cómo se acuerda con los pájaros la traducción de sus idiomas?
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The road made wet by the water of August shines like it was cut in full moonlight
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I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
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Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress? Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots? Who hears the regrets of the thieving automobile? Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?
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There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit. There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.
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I learned about life from life itself, love I learned in a single kiss and could teach no one anything except that I have lived with something in common among men.
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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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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?
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I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.
Pablo Neruda