Pablo Neruda Quotes

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.

Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots?

We bear the sole, relentless tenderness.

Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.

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

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

I love you as one loves certain dark things.

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.

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.

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

What can I say without touching the earth with my hands?

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

Oh to follow the road that leads away from everything, without anguish, death, winter waiting along it with their eyes open through the dew.

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

Love! Love until the night collapses!

Love is the mystery of water and a star.

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

I learned about life from life itself, love I learned in a single kiss and could teach no one anything except that I have lived with something in common among men.

Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.

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.

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

Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness, and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.

The bare earth, plantless, waterless, is an immense puzzle. In the forests or beside rivers everything speaks to humans. The desert does not speak. I could not comprehend its tongue; its silence...

To feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know ... widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.

Without doubt I praise the wild excellence.

Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines...Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her.

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.

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?

O happy childhood! blessed youth! But once we know thy potent power; But once we live all careless free; No cross to mar our love-lit bower.

I move in the university of the waves.

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.

I say love, and the world populates itself with doves.

Do tears not yet spilled wait in small lakes?

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

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.

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.

I am made of earth, and my song made of words.

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

It was at that age that poetry came in search of me.

Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities? Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles?

What will they say about my poetry who never touched my blood?

I had no more alphabet than the journeying of the swallows, the pure and tiny water of the small, fiery bird that dances rising from the pollen.

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

Love, what a long way, to arrive at a kiss.

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.

I believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.

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

For now I ask no more Than the justice of eating.

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