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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
Cherry
Cherries
Trees
Spring
Tree
Doe

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Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank!
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To feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know ... widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.
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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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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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Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude.
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My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.
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Am I allowed to ask my book / whether it's true I wrote it?
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Poetry is an act of peace.
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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 believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.
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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?
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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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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.
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If you no longer live, if you my beloved, my love, if you have died, all the leaves will fall in my breast, it will rain in my soul night and day, the snow will burn my heart, I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow, my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping, but I shall live
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Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.
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Love! Love until the night collapses!
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Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth.
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Laughter is the language of the soul.
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With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea?
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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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