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I want to do for you what the spring does for the cherry trees

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
Trees
Spring
Tree
Doe
Cherry
Cherries

More quotes by Pablo Neruda

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I built up these lumber piles of love, and with fourteen boards each I built little houses, so that your eyes, which I adore and sing to, might live in them. Now that I have declared the foundations of my love, I surrender this century to you: wooden sonnets that rise only because you gave them life.
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I say love, and the world populates itself with doves.
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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.
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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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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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Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.
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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?
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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 stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.
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Am I allowed to ask my book / whether it's true I wrote it?
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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?
Pablo Neruda
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Oh to follow the road that leads away from everything, without anguish, death, winter waiting along it with their eyes open through the dew.
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What did the earth teach the trees? How to speak to the sky.
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Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity, your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages, and a genital fire, transformed by delight, slips through the narrow channels of blood to precipitate a nocturnal carnation, to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.
Pablo Neruda
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Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance climbed up through my conscious mind as if suddenly the roots I had left behind cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood - and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
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I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
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I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.
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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.
Pablo Neruda
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When your hands leap towards mine, love, what do they bring me in flight?
Pablo Neruda
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The road made wet by the water of August shines like it was cut in full moonlight
Pablo Neruda