Pablo Neruda Quotes
''A bibliophile of little means is likely to suffer often. Books don't slip from his hands but fly past him through the air, high as birds, high as prices.''Pablo Neruda (1904-1973), Chilean poet. Memoirs, ch. 11 (1974, trans. 1977).
''“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.” ''100 Love Sonnets
''“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.” ''
''“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” ''Pablo Neruda, Love: Ten Poems
''“Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, youll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.” ''― Pablo Neruda
''“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.” ''Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
''“Tonight I can write the saddest lines― Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.” ''
''“As if you were on fire from within.― Pablo Neruda
The moon lives in the lining of your skin.” ''
''“so I wait for you like a lonely house100 Love Sonnets
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.” ''
''“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.” ''― Pablo Neruda
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If You Forget Me
I want you to know
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
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
you forget me
do not look for me,...
It so happens I am sick of being a man.
And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie
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
The only thing I want is to lie still like stones or wool.