Treasure Island

Pablo Neruda

(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973 / Parral / Chile)

And because Love battles


And because love battles
not only in its burning agricultures
but also in the mouth of men and women,
I will finish off by taking the path away
to those who between my chest and your fragrance
want to interpose their obscure plant.

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

I lived in the prairies
before I got to know you
and I did not wait love but I was
laying in wait for and I jumped on the rose.

What more can they tell you?
I am neither good nor bad but a man,
and they will then associate the danger
of my life, which you know
and which with your passion you shared.

And good, this danger
is danger of love, of complete love
for all life,
for all lives,
and if this love brings us
the death and the prisons,
I am sure that your big eyes,
as when I kiss them,
will then close with pride,
into double pride, love,
with your pride and my pride.

But to my ears they will come before
to wear down the tour
of the sweet and hard love which binds us,
and they will say: “The one
you love,
is not a woman for you,
Why do you love her? I think
you could find one more beautiful,
more serious, more deep,
more other, you understand me, look how she’s light,
and what a head she has,
and look at how she dresses,
and etcetera and etcetera”.

And I in these lines say:
Like this I want you, love,
love, Like this I love you,
as you dress
and how your hair lifts up
and how your mouth smiles,
light as the water
of the spring upon the pure stones,
Like this I love you, beloved.

To bread I do not ask to teach me
but only not to lack during every day of life.
I don’t know anything about light, from where
it comes nor where it goes,
I only want the light to light up,
I do not ask to the night
explanations,
I wait for it and it envelops me,
And so you, bread and light
And shadow are.

You came to my life
with what you were bringing,
made
of light and bread and shadow I expected you,
and Like this I need you,
Like this I love you,
and to those who want to hear tomorrow
that which I will not tell them, let them read it here,
and let them back off today because it is early
for these arguments.

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.

Submitted: Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Edited: Tuesday, May 10, 2011

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Comments about this poem (And because Love battles by Pablo Neruda )

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  • Alexander Opicho (12/2/2013 4:26:00 AM)

    Tomorrow we will only give them a leaf of the tree of our love; my favourite line; kudos and kudos comrade Neftali (Report) Reply

  • Sohini Sengupta (3/25/2012 4:56:00 AM)

    people always have a say about how to water your garden...what flower to plant.... leaving their own gardens uncatered.
    this poem shows depth of love...that chooses, notwithstanding faults and grave pasts...... it is a beautiful poem
    nothing hopelessly petrarchan..or metaphysical.... but a genuine poem. (Report) Reply

  • Mimi Mata (7/13/2010 1:42:00 PM)

    SEE...This is why Neruda is my favorite poet of 'all time'...


    And because love battles
    not only in its burning agricultures
    but also in the mouth of men and women,
    I will finish off by taking the path away
    to those who between my chest and your fragrance
    want to interpose their obscure plant. (Report) Reply

  • Shama Bukhari (3/31/2009 5:08:00 PM)

    Pablo Neruda...what a great poem you left for your readers so long ago.The last lines are really emotional.I say... love takes nothing, it leaves pains..... (Report) Reply

  • James Sides (8/1/2008 9:06:00 AM)

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

    Thats a beautiful stanza (Report) Reply

  • Francois Hoon (6/25/2007 6:45:00 PM)

    Wow, what a cool poem, especially the last paragraph - a magnificent ending! Love should be personal, and it's value and depth not influenced and touched by a cruel world... (Report) Reply

  • Damian Mccoy (4/25/2007 9:48:00 PM)

    The last paragraph, My god the voice of the master of emotion, i feel his work sometimes so heavily that it makes me cry with joy that there once a man alive not afraid to write the truth of true love, so never relenting in the mind in the beholder yet so fleeting.

    He knew no fear,

    Dee (Report) Reply

Read all 13 comments »

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