Love Poems by Pablo Neruda 1

 

Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda was the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean writer and politician Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. Neruda assumed his pen name as a teenager, partly because it was in vogue, partly to hide his poetry from his father, a rigid man who wanted his son to have a "practical" occupation. Neruda's pen name was derived from Czech writer and poet Jan Neruda; Pablo is thought to be from Paul Verlaine. With his works translated into many languages, Pablo Neruda is considered one of the greatest and most influential poets of the 20th century.

Neruda was accomplished in a variety of styles, ranging from erotically charged love poems like his collection Twenty Poems of Love and a Song of Despair, surrealist poems, historical epics, and overtly political manifestos. In 1971, Neruda won the Nobel Prize for Literature, a controversial award because of his political activism. Colombian novelist Gabriel García Marquez once called him "the greatest poet of the 20th century in any language."

On July 15, 1945, at Pacaembu Stadium in São Paulo, Brazil, he read to 100,000 people in honor of Communist revolutionary leader Luís Carlos Prestes. When Neruda returned to Chile after his Nobel Prize acceptance speech, Salvador Allende invited him to read at the Estadio Nacional before 70,000 people.

During his lifetime, Neruda occupied many diplomatic posts and served a stint as a senator for the Chilean Communist Party. When Conservative Chilean President González Videla outlawed communism in Chile, a warrant was issued for Neruda's arrest. Friends hid him for months in a house basement in the Chilean port of Valparaíso. Later, Neruda escaped into exile through a mountain pass near Maihue Lake into Argentina. Years later, Neruda was a close collaborator to socialist President Salvador Allende.

Neruda was hospitalized with cancer at the time of the Chilean coup d'état led by Augusto Pinochet. Three days after being hospitalized, Neruda died of heart failure. Already a legend in life, Neruda's death reverberated around the world. Pinochet had denied permission to transform Neruda's funeral into a public event. However, thousands of grieving Chileans disobeyed the curfew and crowded the streets to pay their respects. Neruda's funeral became the first public protest against the Chilean military dictatorship.

 

 

Pablo Neruda Love  Poems 1

(1904-1973)

 

1 female body

 Woman's body, white hills, white thighs, you resemble the world in your attitude of surrender. My body of a wild peasant undermines you and makes the son jump from the bottom of the earth. I was just like a tunnel. The birds fled from me and in me, the night entered the powerful invasion of him. To survive I forged you like a weapon like an arrow in my bow, like a stone in my sling. But the hour of revenge falls, and I love you. Body of skin, of moss, of avid and firm milk. Ah the glasses of the chest! Ah the eyes of absence! Ah, the pubic roses! Ah your slow and sad voice! Body of my woman, will persist in your grace. My thirst, my endless craving, my indecisive path! Dark channels where the eternal thirst follows, and the fatigue continues, and the infinite pain.

2. I n its deadly flame

 In its deadly flame, the light envelops you. Absorbed, pale aching thus situated against the old twilight propellers that revolves around you. Mute, my friend, alone in the lonely of this hour of death and filled with the lives of fire, pure heir of the destroyed day. A cluster of sun falls on your dark dress. Of the night, the great roots suddenly grow from your soul, and things that are hidden in you return to the exterior. so that a pale blue town it feeds on you newborn. Oh great, fertile, and magnetic slave circle that happens in black and gold: erect, try to achieve a creation so vivid that its flowers succumb, and it is full of sadness.

3. Ah vastness of pines, sound of breaking waves, slow play of light, lonely bell, twilight falling in your eyes, doll, and terrestrial conch, in you the earth sings! In you, the rivers sing and my soul flees in them as you wish and wherever you want. Mark my way in your arch of hope and I will release my flock of arrows in delirium. Around me, I am seeing your waist of mist and your silence haunts my persecuted hours, and it is you with your transparent stone arms where my kisses anchor and my wet craving nests. Ah, your mysterious voice that love dyes and bends in the resounding sunset and dying! Therefore, in deep hours over the fields I have seen the ears of corn bent in the mouth of the wind.

4. It is the morning

 It is the morning full of tempest in the heart of summer. Like goodbye white handkerchiefs the clouds travel, the wind shakes them with its traveling hands. Countless heart of the wind beating over our silence in love. Buzzing through the trees, orchestral and divine, like a language full of wars and songs. Wind that carries the litter in rapid robbery and deflects the beating arrows of the birds. Wind that knocks her down in a wave without foam and substance without weight, and fires bowed. It breaks and its volume of kisses submerges fought at the gate of the summer wind.

5. for you to hear me

 For you to hear me my words they get thin sometimes like the footprints of seagulls on the beaches. Necklace, drunk rattlesnake for your hands soft as grapes. In addition, I look at my words from a distance. More than mine, they are yours. They climb in my old pain like ivy. They climb the damp walls like this. You are the one to blame for this bloody game. They are fleeing from my dark lair. You fill everything, you fill everything. Before you, they populated the loneliness you occupy, and they are more used to my sadness than you are. Now I want them to say what I want to tell you so that you can hear them, as I want you to hear me. Anguish's wind still drags them. Hurricanes of dreams still knock them over sometimes. You hear other voices in my sore voice. Tears of old mouths, blood of old supplications. Love me, collaborate.

 Do not leave me. Follow me Follow me, partner, in that wave of anguish. But my words are staining with your love. You occupy everything, you occupy everything. I am making an infinity necklace out of all of them for your white hands, soft as grapes.

6. 6.I remember you how you were last autumn

I remember you as you were last autumn. You were the gray beret and the calm heart. In your eyes, the flames of the twilight fought and the leaves fell in the water of your soul. Clasping my arms like a vine. The leaves picked up your voice slowly and calmly. Bonfire of awe in which my thirst was burning. Sweet blue hyacinth twisted over my soul. I feel your eyes traveling and autumn is distant: gray beret, bird's voice and home heart where my deep desires migrated and my happy kisses fell like embers. Sky from a ship. Field from the hills. Your memory is of light, of smoke, of a calm pond! Beyond your eyes the twilights burned. Dry autumn leaves spun in

7. .Inclined in the afternoons

Inclined in the afternoons Bent over in the afternoons I throw my sad nets to your oceanic eyes. There it stretches and burns in the highest bonfire my loneliness that turns its arms like a castaway. I make red marks on your absent eyes that sway like the sea on the shore of a lighthouse. You only keep darkness, distant female and mine, sometimes the coast of terror emerges from your gaze. Bent over in the afternoons I cast my sad nets to that sea that shakes your oceanic eyes. Night birds peck at the first stars that sparkle like my soul when I love you. The night gallops on its gloomy mare spreading blue spikes over the field.

8. White bee buzzing - drunk on honey in my soul

9. 9. Drunk on turpentine and long kisses

Drunk with turpentine and long kisses, summer, the sailboat of roses I direct, twisted towards the death of the thin day, grounded in solid marine frenzy. Pale and tied to my devouring water I cross in the sour smell of the bare weather. still dressed in gray and bitter sounds, and a sad crest of abandoned foam. I go, hard of passions, riding my unique wave, lunar, solar, hot and cold, sudden, asleep in the throat of the lucky ones islands white and sweet like fresh hips. My kissing dress trembles in the wet night madly charged with electrical managements, heroically divided into dreams And heady roses practicing on me Upstream, amid the outer waves, your parallel body is held in my arms like a fish infinitely attached to my soul fast and slow in sub-celestial energy.

10. 10. We have still missed this twilight.

e even lost this twilight. No one saw us this afternoon with joined hands As the blue night fell on the world I have seen from my window the feast of the west in the distant hills. Sometimes like a coin, a piece of sun lit up between my hands. I remembered you with a tight soul of that sadness that you know me So where were you? Between which genes? Saying what words? Why will all the love come to me at once when I feel sad, and I feel you are far away? The book that is always taken at twilight fell, and like a wounded dog my cloak rolled at my feet. Always, always you walk away in the evenings towards where the twilight runs erasing statues.

 

 

With affection,

Ruben