Quotes About Nature

Why is it so hard, the sweetness of the heart of the cherry? Is it because it must die or because it must carry on?

You, in bloom, heart, beloved, you are like the foliage of the sky over my eyes and I look at you lying on the earth

He dormido contigo y al despertar tu boca salida de tu sueño me dio el sabor de tierra, de agua

I can scarcely measure the sky's most spacious eyes and I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.

And now, beloved, through the crackling sea we return like blind birds

Neither the heart cut by a sliver of glass in a wasteland of thorns, nor the atrocious waters seen in the corners of certain houses, waters like eyelids and eyes, could hold your waist in my hands when my heart lifts its oak trees toward your unbreakable thread of snow.   Night sugar, spirit of crowns, redeemed human blood, your kisses banish me, and a surge of water with remnants of the sea strikes the silences that wait for you surrounding the worn-out chairs, wearing doors away.

Pure your gentle name, pure your fragile life, bees, shadows, fire, snow, silence and foam, combined with steel and wire and pollen to make up your firm and delicate being. Pablo Neruda's epitaph for Tina Modotti

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

I am not a gentle shepherd like the ones in fairy tales, but a good woodsman who shares with you earth, wind, and moutain thorns.

I love you between shadow and soul. I love you as the plant that hasn't bloomed yet, and carries hidden within itself the light of flowers. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. Because of you, the dense fragrance that rises from the earth lives in my body, rioting with hunger for the eternity of our victorious kisses.

Remembering her, it is as if my heart were buried in the rain. Again I think it's she, but why would she be coming now? Oh, what sad days! […] Your eyes : two sleepy cups darkened by purple berries from the forest undergrowth. What a leaf, a leaf from a white vine, fragrant and heavy, I could have brought you from the forest. Every- thing flees from this solitude enforced by rain and contemplation.

Y por que el sol es tan mal amigo del caminante en el desierto? Y por que el sol es tan simpatico en el jardin del hospital? And why is the sun such a bad companion to the traveler in the desert? And why is the sun so congenial in the hospital garden?

Book beautiful book, miniscule forest, leaf after leaf your paper smells of the elements. . . .

Começarei por dizer, sobre os dias e anos de minha infância, que meu único personagem inesquecível foi a chuva.

I searched, but no one else had your rhythms, your light, the shady day you brought from the forest; Nobody had your tiny ears.

Let us look for secret things somewhere in the world, on the blue shore of silence or where the storm has passed, rampaging like a train...

I know, I know, but here beside the water while the locusts chitter and sparkle, although they are waiting, I want to wait for myself. I too want to watch myself. I want to discover at last my own feelings. And when I reach the place where I am waiting, I expect to fall asleep, dying of laughter.

No te engañó la primavera con besos que no florecieron?

veo el mundo enteramente rosa y azul.

III 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?

Si consideras largo y loco el viento de banderas que pasa por mi vida y te decides a dejarme a la orilla del corazón en que tengo raíces, piensa, que en ese día, a esa hora, levantaré los brazos y saldrán mis raíces a buscar otra tierra.

Caen pensamientos de amor en los volcanes extinguidos? Do thoughts of love fall into extinct volcanoes?

El agua anda descalza por las calles mojadas.

Sol de Mar Yo encontre en Isla Negra un dia, un sol acostado en la arena, un sol centrifugo y central cubierto de dedos de oro y ventosas como alfileres. Recogi el sol enarenado y levantandolo a la luz lo compare con el del cielo. No se miraron, ni se vieron.