Pablo Neruda

(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973 / Parral)

Pablo Neruda Poems

121. Puedo Escribir 1/13/2003
122. Fable Of The Mermaid And The Drunks 1/25/2003
123. Saddest Poem 1/13/2003
124. The Saddest Poem 1/3/2003
125. Enigmas 1/13/2003
126. Poetry 1/3/2003
127. Your Feet 1/13/2003
128. Bird 1/3/2003
129. I'M Explaining A Few Things 1/3/2003
130. Clenched Soul 1/3/2003
131. Xvii (I Do Not Love You...) 1/13/2003
132. A Lemon 1/3/2003
133. From – Twenty Poems Of Love 1/25/2003
134. Drunk As Drunk 1/3/2003
135. A Song Of Despair 1/3/2003
136. And Because Love Battles 9/6/2006
137. A Dog Has Died 1/13/2003
138. Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines 1/3/2003
139. Sonnet Xvii 1/3/2003
140. Your Laughter 1/3/2003
141. Don'T Go Far Off 1/13/2003
142. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You 1/13/2003
143. If You Forget Me 1/3/2003

Comments about Pablo Neruda

  • keyshawn (5/11/2018 9:31:00 AM)

    this poem is soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo lame

    2 person liked.
    12 person did not like.
  • Susan (4/30/2018 8:37:00 AM)

    Looking for his poem about his home in Valpariaso.

  • Andom Gebresselassie Beraki (4/22/2018 11:15:00 AM)

    I am writer oerson and i am a singer

  • pablo picasso (4/19/2018 1:44:00 PM)

    HORRIBLE WHO TALKS ABOUT A DOG DYING

  • Bibin (4/17/2018 7:11:00 AM)

    Love is true

  • Isabel hello (4/8/2018 4:11:00 AM)

    Stupid song

  • Rajesh Ranjan (4/6/2018 12:13:00 PM)

    very nice

  • ou6tdj (3/26/2018 11:52:00 AM)

    afjh s sjhdf lasdjfhalksjhdkjhfkjh flskdjfh

  • 4i4rfghbirf4tvyy7y786yfcu4i8r7gf4ytcg (3/26/2018 9:36:00 AM)

    dcwbrjet4fitoudyfo4uryfdouy3feoi23egco37fo3yfug08374fgokjhg23891784373ty6ey87928374678334876r37898374r67389eudfv8y7 gvufgyhvfcd hbcjdekhghbe; dycgfk v

  • narayanan namboodiri (3/21/2018 9:10:00 PM)

    wonderful world

Best Poem of Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me

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,...

Read the full of If You Forget Me

Walking Around

It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie
houses
dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt
steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes.

The smell of barbershops makes me break into hoarse
sobs.
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.

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