poet Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda

#5 on top 500 poets

Sonnet Xxv

Before I loved you, love, nothing was my own:
I wavered through the streets, among
Objects:
Nothing mattered or had a name:
The world was made of air, which waited.

I knew rooms full of ashes,
Tunnels where the moon lived,
Rough warehouses that growled 'get lost',
Questions that insisted in the sand.

Everything was empty, dead, mute,
Fallen abandoned, and decayed:
Inconceivably alien, it all

Belonged to someone else - to no one:
Till your beauty and your poverty
Filled the autumn plentiful with gifts.

Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 5, 2003
Poem Edited: Friday, May 16, 2008

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73 total ratings
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Comments about Sonnet Xxv by Pablo Neruda

  • Mary SkarpathiotakiMary Skarpathiotaki (12/20/2017 2:55:00 AM)

    Ήξερα δωμάτια γεμάτα στάχτες,
    Σήραγγες όπου ζούσε το φεγγάρι,
    Ανάκατες αποθήκες που γκρίνιαζαν «χάσου»,
    Ερωτήσεις που επέμεναν στην άμμο.

    Όλα ήταν άδεια, νεκρα, σιωπηλα,
    Ο νεκρός εγκαταλείφθηκε και κατέρρευσε:
    απροσδόκητα ξένα όλα

    Ανήκαν σε κάποιον άλλο - σε κανέναν:
    Μέχρι η ομορφιά σου και η φτώχεια σου
    Να γεμίσουν το φθινόπωρο με δώρα.

    Pablo Neruda

    Μτφρ.Μ.Σκαρπαθιωτάκη

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    2 person liked.
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  • Mary SkarpathiotakiMary Skarpathiotaki (12/20/2017 2:55:00 AM)

    Προτού σας αγαπήσω,
    η αγάπη, δεν ήταν δική μου:
    Κοιτούσα μέσα στους δρόμους,
    μεταξύ
    Αντικείμενων:
    Τίποτα δεν είχε σημασία ή είχε όνομα:
    Ο κόσμος ήταν φτιαγμένος από αέρα,
    που περίμενε.

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    1 person liked.
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  • Mary SkarpathiotakiMary Skarpathiotaki (12/20/2017 2:50:00 AM)

    excellent poem i love it i vote 10+++Thank a lot! !

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    1 person liked.
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  • M Asim NehalM Asim Nehal (2/11/2016 1:29:00 AM)

    Superb imagery and the status of man in love loosing self.

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    Souren MondalSouren Mondal(2/14/2016 12:07:00 AM)

    I agree with you Asim.. It is a beautiful poem..

    1 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • Fabrizio FrosiniFabrizio Frosini (11/24/2015 5:38:00 AM)

    Soneto XXV... em português...


    Antes de amar-te, amor, nada era meu:
    vacilei pelas ruas e as coisas:
    nada contava nem tinha nome:
    o mundo era do ar que esperava.

    E conheci salões cinzentos,
    túneis habitados pela lua,
    hangares cruéis que se despediam,
    perguntas que insistiam na areia.

    Tudo estava vazio, morto e mudo,
    caído, abandonado e decaído,
    tudo era inalienavelmente alheio,

    tudo era dos outros e de ninguém,
    até que tua beleza e tua pobreza
    de dádivas encheram o outono.

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    11 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • John Tiong ChunghooJohn Tiong Chunghoo (7/4/2006 7:57:00 AM)

    your genius shines through in this poem. you use so many apt and effective examples to let us feel your pain and joy for a love.;

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    3 person liked.
    5 person did not like.



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