Quotes from Pablo Neruda

Hay algo más tonto en la vida Que llamarse Pablo Neruda? (is there anything more insane in this life than being called Pablo Neruda?)

Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

Porque sentí que de alguna manera Compartí lo que hacían O mis hermanos o mis enemigos: Y ellos, de tanta nada que saqué De la nada, de la nada mía, Tomaron algo y les sirvió mi vida...

But you, cloudless girl, question of smoke, corn tassel. You were what the wind was making with illuminated leaves. Behind the nocturnal mountains, white lily of conflagration, ah, I can say nothing!  You were made of everything.

Here is the solitude from which you are absent. It is raining. The sea wind is hunting stray gulls. The water walks barefoot in the wet streets. From that tree the leaves complain as though they were sick. White bee, even when you are gone, you live in my soul. You live again in time, slender and silent. Ah, you who are silent.

Sólo con una ardiente paciencia conquistaremos la espléndida ciudad que dará luz, justicia y dignidad a todos los hombres. Así la poesía no habrá cantado en vano.

I cannot quit your love without dying.

Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain?

Only with kisses and red poppies can I love you, with rain-soaked wreaths, contemplating ashen horses and yellow dogs. Only with waves at my back can I love you, between dull explosions of brimstone and reflective waters, swimming against cemeteries that circulate in certain rivers, drowned pasture flooding the sad, chalky tombstones, swimming across submerged hearts and faded lists of unburied children.

I love you without knowing how, nor when, nor from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you this way because I know no other way to love

They lie those that say I lost the moon, those that prophesized my fate of sand, they assert so many things with cold tongues: they wish to ban the flower of the universe.

Through the mountains you go as a breeze comes

My love has two lifetimes to love you. That's how I can love you when I don't, and still love you when I do.

Dark is the world's night without you my love

How do the oranges divide up sunlight in the orange tree?

Am I allowed to ask my book whether it's true I wrote it?

My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose. I love what I do not have. You are so far. My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything, I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic shops, and courtyards with washing hanging from the line: underwear, towels and shirts from which slow dirty tears are falling.

Y una a una las noches entre nuestras ciudades separadas se agregan a la noche que nos une.

ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.

Todo era de los otros y de nadie, hasta que tu belleza y tu pobreza llenaron el otoño de regalos.

Como se acuerda con los pajaros la traduccion de sus idiomas? How is the translation of their languages Arranged with the birds?

And let me talk to you with your silence that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring. You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations. Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.

I hold a dramatic and romantic concept of life; What doesn't touch my senses means nothing to me