Quotes About Solitude

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent, distant and full of sorrow as though you had died. One word then, one smile, is enough. And I am happy, happy that it's not true.

Did the loneliness die that night? Or was I born then, of my solitude?

Along the Chilean coast, with cold and winter, when rain falls washing the weeks. Listen: solitude becomes music once more, and it seems its appearance is that of air, of rain, that time, something with wave and wings, passes by, grows. And the harp awakes from oblivion.

Long deep lines, chapters carved in his face by age, question marks, mysterious tales, asterisks, all that the sirens had forgot in the far-reaching solitude of his soul, all that fell from the starry sky, was traced in his face.

Now I'll count up to twelve and you keep quiet and I will go.

T]here arises an insight, which the poet must learn through other people. There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.

Para mí solo aquellas soledades, para mí solo aquel camino puro, para mí solo el universo.

ALWAYS Facing you I am not jealous. Come with a man at your back, come with a hundred men in your hair, come with a thousand men between your bosom and your feet, come like a river filled with drowned men that meets the furious sea, the eternal foam, the weather. Bring them all where I wait for you: we shall always be alone, we shall always be, you and I, alone upon the earth to begin life.

I like for you to be still, and you are still far away.

Yaln?z bir yer, daha önce söz ettim bu yapayaln?z yerden, burada toprak okyanusla dolu, burada kimse yok, yaln?zca at izleri, kimse yok, yaln?zca rüzgar, kimse yok, yaln?zca denizin sular?na yaÄŸan yaÄŸmur, kimse yok, yaln?zca denizde artan yaÄŸmur.

Hour of nostalgia, hour of happiness, hour of solitude, hour that is mine from among them all! Hunting horn through which the wind passes singing. Such a passion of weeping tied to my body.

The night is starry, and she is not with me. That is all.

Por que se me vendra todo el ame de golpe cuando me siento triste, y te siento lejana?

Seviyorum susman?, yokluk gibisin çünkü. Öyle uzak, ac?l?, ölüp gitmiÅŸ gibi sen. Yeter o zaman bir söz, bir gülümseyiÅŸ bile. Sevinirim, baÅŸka ÅŸey yok öyle sevindiren.

Huye. Aléjate. Extínguete. Mi alma debe estar sola. Debe crucificarse, hacerse astillas, rodar, verterse, contaminarse sola, abierta a la marea de los llantos, ardiendo en el ciclón de las furias, erguida entre los cerros y los pájaros, aniquilarse, exterminarse sola, abandonada y única como un faro de espanto.

La timidité est une condition étrange du coeur, une catégorie, une dimension qui débouche sur la solitude. C'est aussi une souffrance dont on ne peut se défaire, comme si l'on avait deux épidermes et que la deuxième peau intérieure s'irritait et se contractait devant la vie. J'avoue que j'ai vécu

Last hawser, in you creaks my last longing. In my barren land you are the final rose.

Amor, cuántos caminos hasta llegar a un beso, qué soledad errante hasta tu compañía! Siguen los trenes solos rodando con la lluvia.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me. my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.

To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.   To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.   And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.   What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is starry and she is not with me.

And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering like ivy. It climbs the same way on damp walls. You are to blame for this cruel sport. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you they peopled the solitude that you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. ...But my words become stained with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything.

La poesía acompañó a los agonizantes y restañó los dolores, condujo a las victorias, acompañó a los solitarios, fue quemante como el fuego, ligera y fresca como la nieve, tuvo manos, dedos y puños, tuvo brotes como la primavera: echó raíces en el corazón del hombre.

Ahora me parece que no está solo el hombre. En sus manos ha elaborado como si fuera un duro pan, la esperanza, la terrestre esperanza.

Even in memory, I am terrified by those solitudes! When foul weather is unleashed in that part of the world, the rain seems kin to the devil; the waters of the river and the sea and sky couple, bellowing. A forsaken land where even letters arrive wilted, withered by distances, where hearts petrify and are altered. from "A Dead Man's Name