Pablo Neruda quotes:

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  • The books that help you most are those which make you think that 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.

  • And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

  • You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.

  • You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

  • Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

  • Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity, your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages, and a genital fire, transformed by delight, slips through the narrow channels of blood to precipitate a nocturnal carnation, to be, and be nothing but light in the dark.

  • ...the best poet is the man who delivers our daily bread: the local baker....

  • I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.

  • Conspirators in pajamas who exchange deep kisses for passwords.

  • Your wide eyes are the only light I know from extinguished constellations.

  • I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

  • I've come within range of hate. Terrifying, its tremors, its dizzying obsessions. Hate's like a swordfish invisible in the water, knifing suddenly into sight with blood on its blade- clear water misleads you.

  • From scarlet to powdered gold, to blazing yellow, to the rare ashen emerald, to the orange and black velvet of your shimmering corselet, out to the tip that like an amber thorn begins you, small, superlative being, you are a miracle, and you blaze

  • Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.

  • But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.

  • 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.

  • my beauty, flower by flower, star by star,wave by wave, love, I have counted your body.

  • Tonight I can write the saddest linesI loved her, and sometimes she loved me too."

  • Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying, everything is absorbed through weather and the sea, and the moon swam back, its rays all silvered, and time and again the darkness would be broken by the crash of a wave, and every day on the balcony of the sea, wings open, fire is born, and everything is blue again like morning.

  • My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.

  • I want to do for you what the spring does for the cherry trees

  • I am everybody and every time, I always call myself by your name.

  • Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart.

  • I love the piece of earth you are,because in all the planetary prairiesI do not have another star. You repeatthe multiplication of the universe.

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

  • Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance. Don't leave me for a second, my dearest.

  • We have to discard the past / and, as one builds / floor by floor, window by window, / and the building rises, / so do we keep shedding - first, broken tiles, / then proud doors... and each new day / gleams / like an empty / plate.

  • 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.

  • No one will retrieve my lost heartamidst so many roots, in the bitter freshnessof the sun multiplied by the fury of the water,there the shadow lives that does not travel with me.

  • And the heart sounds like a sour conch,calls, oh sea, oh lament, oh molten panic,scattered in the unlucky and disheveled waves:the sea reports sonorouslyon its languid shadows, its green poppies.

  • There's a country spread out in the sky, a credulous carpet of rainbows and crepuscular plants: I move toward it just a bit haggardly, trampling a gravedigger's rubble still moist from the spade to dream in a bedlam of vegetables.

  • Hate is like a swordfish, working through water invisibly and then you see it coming with blood along its blade, but transparency disarms it.

  • La heradera del dia destruida. (The heiress of the destroyed day.)

  • O merry, merry, merry, like only dogs know how to be happy and nothing more, with an absolute shameless nature.

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

  • 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.

  • 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 in blood.

  • I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.

  • Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?

  • We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses.

  • Latin America is very fond of the word "hope." We like to be called the "continent of hope." Candidates for deputy, senator, president, call themselves "candidates of hope." This hope is really something like a promise of heaven, an IOU whose payment is always being put off. It is put off until the next legislative campaign, until next year, until the next century.

  • Laughter is the language of the soul.

  • Green was the silence, wet was the light, the month of June trembled like a butterfly.

  • Only do not forget, if I wake up crying it's only because in my dream I'm a lost child hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands....

  • Fue adondo a mi me perdieron quw logre por fin encontrarme? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself?

  • I stood on the balcony dark with mourning... hoping the earth would spread its wings in my uninhabited love.

  • 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 the cold into the fire.

  • It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.

  • By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the two together in their sleep will defeat the darkness

  • 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.

  • I love all things, not only the grand but the infinitely small: thimble, spurs, plates, flower vases.....

  • 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.

  • And what has become of it, where is that onetime love? Now it is the grave of a bird, a drop of black quartz, a chunk of wood eroded by the rain.

  • And that's why i have to go back to so many places there to find myself and constantly examine myself with no witness but the moon and then whistle with joy, ambling over rocks and clods of earth, with no task but to live, with no family but the road.

  • Perhaps this war will pass like the others which divided us leaving us dead, killing us along with the killers but the shame of this time puts its burning fingers to our faces. Who will erase the ruthlessness hidden in innocent blood?

  • Oh, beloved, and there is nothing but shadowswhere you accompany me in your dreamsand tell me the hour of light.

  • We openthe halvesof a miracle,and a clotting of acidsbrimsinto the starrydivisions:creation'soriginal juices,irreducible, changeless,alive:so the freshness lives on

  • as you come out of the sea, naked,and return to the world full of salt and sun,reverberating statue and sword of the sand.

  • A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.

  • Child who does not play is not a child, but the man who does not play has lost forever the child who lived within him and who he will miss terribly

  • 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.

  • You are like nobody since I love you.

  • As if you were on fire from within.The moon lives in the lining of your skin.

  • Love! Love until the night collapses!

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

  • Tonight I can write the saddest linesI loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

  • I wantTo do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

  • I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

  • Our love was bornoutside the walls,in the wind,in the night,in the earth,and that's why the clay and the flower,the mud and the rootsknow your name.

  • With which stars do they go on speaking,the rivers that never reach the sea~?

  • I move in the university of the waves.

  • Hay una estrella mas abiertaque la palabra 'amapola'?Is there a star more wide openthan the word 'poppy"~?

  • Y por que el sol es tan mal amigodel caminante en el desierto?Y por que el sol es tan simpaticoen el jardin del hospital?And why is the sun such a bad companionto the traveler in the desert?And why is the sun so congenial in the hospital garden~?

  • Naked you are blue like the night in Cuba,you have vines and stars in your hair,

  • Come see the cherry trees of a water constellationand the round key of the rapid universe,come touch the fire of instantaneous blue,come before its petals are consumed.

  • Que sigue pagando el otono con tanto dinero amarillo?What does autumn go on paying forwith so much yellow money~?

  • I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair....

  • Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us

  • Oh love, rose made wet by mermaids and foams, fire that dances and climbs up the invisible stairs and awakens the blood in the tunnel of sleeplessness.

  • Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.

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

  • Take it all back. Life is boring, except for flowers, sunshine, your perfect legs. A glass of cold water when you are really thirsty. The way bodies fit together. Fresh and young and sweet. Coffee in the morning. These are just moments. I struggle with the in-betweens. I just want to never stop loving like there is nothing else to do, because what else is there to do?

  • To love is to tilt with the lightning, two bodies routed by a single honey's sweet.

  • Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth...

  • As slippery as smooth grapes, words exploding in the light like dormant seeds waiting in the vaults of vocabulary, alive again, and giving life: once again the heart distills them.

  • Give me silence, water, hope Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.

  • We are dust and to dust return. In the end we're neither air, nor fire, nor water, just dirt, neither more nor less, just dirt, and maybe some yellow flowers.

  • 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.

  • A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.

  • About me, nothing worse they will tell you, my love, than what I told you

  • Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.

  • Ah, love is a voyage with water and a star, in drowning air and squalls of precipitate bran; love is a war of lights in the lightning flashes, two bodies blasted in a single burst of honey.

  • All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are.

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

  • And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.

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

  • 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. Now I want them to say what I want to say to you to make you hear as I want you to hear me.

  • 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.

  • And it follows that I am, because you are: it follows from 'you are', that I am, and we: and, because of love, you will, I will, we will, come to be.

  • 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.

  • And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

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

  • And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.

  • Between lips and lips there are cities of great ash and moist summit, drops of when and how, vague comings and goings: between lips and lips as along a shore of sand and glass the wind passes.

  • 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?

  • But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, 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.

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

  • But when I call for a hero, out comes my lazy old self; so I never know who I am, nor how many I am or will be. I'd love to be able to touch a bell and summon the real me, because if I really need myself, I mustn't disappear.

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

  • Como se reparten el sol en el naranjo las naranjas? How do the oranges divide up sunlight in the orange tree?

  • De pronto no puedo decirte lo que yo te debo decir, hombre,perdóname; sabrás que aunque no escuches mis palabras no me eché a llorar ni a dormir y que contigo estoy sin verte desde hace tiempo y hasta el fin. I can't just suddenly tell you what I should be telling you, friend, forgive me; you know that although you don't hear my words, I wasn't asleep or in tears, that I am with you without seeing you for a good long time and until the end.

  • Death arrives among all that sound like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it, comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no finger in it, comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue,with no throat. Nevertheless its steps can be heard and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.

  • Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens.

  • Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?

  • Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth.

  • Eating alone is a disappointment. But not eating matter more, is hollow and green, has thorns like a chain of fish hooks, trailing from the heart, clawing at your insides. Hunger feels like pincers, like the bite of crabs; it burns, burns, and has no fur. Let us sit down soon to eat with all those who haven't eaten; let us spread great tablecloths, put salt in lakes of the world, set up planetary bakeries, tables with strawberries in snow, and a plate like the moon itself from which we can all eat. For now I ask no more than the justice of eating.

  • Every day you play with the light of the universe.

  • Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood.

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

  • For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing.

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