Pablo Neruda Quotes

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“my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping
but
I shall go on living.”

“Then love knew it was called love.
And when I lifted my eyes to your name,
suddenly your heart showed me my way”

“I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”

“And I, infinitesima­l being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.”

“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.”

“I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring in your beauty.”

“The books that help you most are those which make you think the most. The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.”

“I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.”

“At night I dream that you and I are two plants
that grew together, roots entwined,
and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth,
since we are made of earth and rain.”

“Give me silence, water, hope
Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.”

“If suddenly you do not exist,
If suddenly you are not living,
I shall go on living.

I do not dare,
I do not dare to write it,
if you die.

I shall go on living.”

“Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.”

“Give me your hand
out of the depths
sown by your sorrows.”

“Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you?”

“I want to see thirst
In the syllables,
Tough fire
In the sound;
Feel through the dark
For the scream.”

“Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying… and every day on the balcony of the sea wings open fire is born and everything is blue again like morning.”

“And I watch my words from a long way off.
They are more yours than mine.
They climb on my old suffering like ivy.”

“I don’t love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.”

“I like on the table,
when we're speaking,
the light of a bottle
of intelligent wine.”

“I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.”

“I don't want to go on being a root in the dark,
vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep,
downward, in the soaked guts of the earth,
absorbing and thinking, eating each day.”

“I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.”

“Love is a clash of lightnings”

“There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.
There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.”

“I want to see the thirst
inside the syllables
I want to touch the fire
in the sound:
I want to feel the darkness
of the cry. I want
words as rough
as virgin rocks.” - Verb.”

“with your name on my mouth
and a kiss that never
broke away from yours.”

“Every day you play with the light of the universe.”

“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.”

“How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.”

“I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests.”

“When I got the chance
I asked them a slew of questions.
They offered to burn me;
it was the only thing they knew.”

“Our love was born
outside the walls,
in the wind,
in the night,
in the earth,
and that's why the clay and the flower,
the mud and the roots
know your name.”

“Donde termina el arco iris,
en tu alma o en el horizonte?

Where does the rainbow end,
in your soul or on the horizon?”

“Everything is so alive, that I can be alive. Without moving I can see it all. In your life I see everything that lives.”

“Tomorrow we will only give them
a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf
which will fall on the earth
like if it had been made by our lips
like a kiss which falls
from our invincible heights
to show the fire and the tenderness
of a true love.”

“From sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands
and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.”

“And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion?”

“I have named you queen.
There are taller than you, taller.
There are purer than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.”

“It is not so much light that falls
over the world
extended by your body
its suffocating snow,
as brightness, pouring itself out of you,
as if you were
burning inside.

Under your skin the moon is alive.”

“The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.”

“Whom can I ask what I came
to make happen in the world?”

“In you is the illusion of each day.
You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers.
You undermine the horizon with your absence.
Eternally in flight like the wave.”

“Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.”

“Your eyes have the colour of the moon”

“Loving is a journey with water and with stars,
with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour:
loving is a clash of lightning-bolts
and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey.”

“So the freshness lives on
in a lemon,
in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,
the proportions, arcane and acerb.”

“White bee, even when you are gone you buzz in my soul
You live again in time, slender and silent.”

“Maybe someone will know I didn't weave crowns to draw blood; that I faught against mockery;
that I did fill the high tide of my soul with truth.
I repaid vileness with doves.”

“The Truth is in the prolouge.
Death to the romantic fool.,
the expert in solitary confinement.”