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Pablo Neruda Portrait

Pablo Neruda
July 12, 1904 – September 23, 1973

was the pen name of the Chilean poet Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. He was also a diplomat and politician.
Neruda became a poet when he was still a teenager. He wrote surrealist poems, historical epics, political manifestos, love poems, erotical poems, a prose autobiography.
He has always been involved with the political problems of Chile; in 1949 he had to escape, so he had to spend some years in exile. Despite everything, a few years later he returned to his country.
In 1971 Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature.
Neruda always wrote in green ink. He is considered one of the greatest poet of the 20th century.

27 May

A Fire

"To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life."

Pablo Neruda

03 Jun


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

Pablo Neruda

"When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me."

Pablo Neruda

"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."

Pablo Neruda

21 Jan


"Let us forget with generosity those who cannot love us."

Pablo Neruda

"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."

Pablo Neruda

"I want you to know
one thing.

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.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

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."

Pablo Neruda

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