Pablo Neruda was the pen name of the Chilean writer and communist politician Ricardo Eliecer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto, born in Chile on July 12, 1904. Garcia Marquez called him “the greatest poet of the 20th century”. Neruda was accomplished in a wide variety of styles, ranging from erotically charged love poems, surrealist poems, historical epics, and overtly political manifestos. Some of Neruda’s most beloved poems are his “Odes to Common Things”. In 1971, Neruda was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature after several years of being overlooked for his political activism. He died of heart failure on September 23, 1973, twelve days after Augusto Pinochet’s coup d’état.
He writes optimistic, beautiful and unpretentious poetry.
I love “elemental odes”
I agree that Pablo Neruda is a great poet.
And his Elemental Odes are amazing, especially, in my opinion, “The Invisible Man” and “Ode to Wine.”
I checked out The Poetry of Pablo Neruda today from the library and have already read more than 40 pages.
“He doesn’t know,
when life is as full
as an ear of corn with grain
he passes by, never knowing
how to harvest it.”
His words express beauty and gratitude to the simple things in our life’s…, Pablo has spoke for me in many occasions… his words have helped me to steal tears, build smiles and provoke passion…
People I invite you to devour his books.
Pablo Neruda has written some of the most sensual and romantic poetry I have ever read. His images and word play are so real I can feel them and touch them.
I recited one of his poems, in honor of my bride, at my wedding. The poem’s title was a number, and I cannot recall the number, but I will add that later.
- docrivs
his sonnet xvii is by far my favorite. it makes me melt each time i read it.
He helped me discover poetry a long time ago with “20 Love Poems and a Song of despair”
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars,and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.”
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don’t have her. To feel that I’ve lost her.
To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.
What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That’s all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.
As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.
The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.
I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.
Someone else’s. She will be someone else’s. As she once belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.
Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.
Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
Puedo Escribir
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.Escribir, por ejemplo: ‘La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.’
El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.
En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.
Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.
Oir la noche inmensa, más inmnesa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.
Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guadarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.
Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.
La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.
De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.
Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.
Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.
Add people to Pablo Neruda's family
digininja wants to meet Danie Roux
Robert Duncan McNeil
Carlos Marin
Amy Lynn Lee
stugom
Michael Jeffrey Jordan
seg263
Sofia Coppola
Denzel Washington
Kevin Spacey
Michael Leunig
david boreanaz
WildcatGirl
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RawrItsSav
Jon Stewart
Moose
Howard Dean
Mary Chapin Carpenter
Jools Holland
Johnny Cash
Fiona Apple
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Andrew Sullivan
The Girl Next Door
Jack Sparrow
Tom Hanks
Dr. Gregory House
