Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda has to be one of my favorite poets. I don't know why I love poetry so much, maybe because somehow it feels like it touches my soul, it puts beautiful and exquisite words to my emotions and feelings. I hope you love some of Pablo Neruda's poems as much as I do. One thing to say though, is that poetry should never be rushed. Read it slowly, take it in! :) Here are some of my favorite selections from his work:  

"I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

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.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood."



Because of you, in gardens of blossoming 
Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring. 
I have forgotten your face, I no longer 
Remember your hands; how did your lips 
Feel on mine? 

Because of you, I love the white statues 
Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that 
Have neither voice nor sight. 

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; 
I have forgotten your eyes. 

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to 
My vague memory of you. I live with pain 
That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will 
Make to me an irreperable harm. 

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing 
Vines on melancholy walls. 

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to 
Glimpse you in every window. 

Because of you, the heady perfumes of 
Summer pain me; because of you, I again 
Seek out the signs that precipitate desires: 
Shooting stars, falling objects."  


"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. 

I hunger for your sleek laugh, 
your hands the color of a savage harvest, 
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, 
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. 

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." 


"But I love your feet 
only because they walked 
upon the earth and upon 
the wind and upon the waters, 
until they found me." 


"I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, 
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. 
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, 
in secret, between the shadow and the soul. 

I love you as the plant that never blooms 
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; 
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, 
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. 

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. 
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; 
so I love you because I know no other way than this: 

where I does not exist, nor you, 
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, 
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. " 


"The days aren't discarded or collected, they are bees 
that burned with sweetness or maddened 
the sting: the struggle continues, 
the journeys go and come between honey and pain. 
No, the net of years doesn't unweave: there is no net. 
They don't fall drop by drop from a river: there is no river. 
Sleep doesn't divide life into halves, 
or action, or silence, or honor: 
life is like a stone, a single motion, 
a lonesome bonfire reflected on the leaves, 
an arrow, only one, slow or swift, a metal 
that climbs or descends burning in your bones."

No comments:


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...