Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air. Pablo Neruda More Quotes by Pablo Neruda More Quotes From Pablo Neruda Tomorrow we will only give them a leaf of the tree of our love, a leaf which will fall on the earth like if it had been made by our lips like a kiss which falls from our invincible heights to show the fire and the tenderness of a true love. Pablo Neruda kissing fire fall Without doubt I praise the wild excellence. Pablo Neruda excellence prayer doubt And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. Pablo Neruda dew soul fall Who hasn't sharpened the edge of his soul? When, just as our eyes are opened, we see hate, and just after learning to walk, we are tripped, and just for wanting to love, we are hated, and for no more than touching, we are hurt, which of us hasn't started to arm himself, to make himself sharp, somehow, like a knife, to pay back the hurt? Pablo Neruda hate eye hurt The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance. Pablo Neruda distance stars night When I sleep every night, what am I called or not called? And when I wake, who am I if I was not I while I slept? Pablo Neruda every-night sleep night I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. Pablo Neruda voice rain rivers In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood. Pablo Neruda fire love blood My duty moves along with my song: I am I am not: that is my destiny. I exist not if I do not attend to the pain of those who suffer: they are my pains. For I cannot be without existing for all, for all who are silent and oppressed, I come from the people and I sing for them: my poetry is song and punnishment. Pablo Neruda pain song moving Bitter love, a violet with it's crown of thorns in a thicet of spiky passions, spear of sorrow, corolla of rage: how did you come to conquer my soul? What brought you? Pablo Neruda passion sorrow soul Love! Love until the night collapses! Pablo Neruda sweet-love love night I do not love you-except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, from waiting to not waiting for you my heart moves from the cold into the fire. Pablo Neruda sweet-love girlfriend moving Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress? Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots? Who hears the regrets of the thieving automobile? Is there anything in the world sadder than a train standing in the rain? Pablo Neruda regret roots rain Fue adondo a mi me perdieron quw logre por fin encontrarme? Was it where they lost me that I finally found myself? Pablo Neruda fins found lost Writing poetry, we live among the wild beasts, and when we touch a man, the stuff of someone in whom we believed, and he goes to pieces like a rotten pie, you... gather together whatever can be salvaged, while I cup my hands around the live coal of life. Pablo Neruda writing men hands In the house of poetry nothing endures that is not written with blood to be heard with blood. Pablo Neruda endure house blood And our problems will crumble apart, the soul / blow through like a wind, and here where we live will all be clean again, with fresh bread on the table. Pablo Neruda soul blow wind In you is the illusion of each day. You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers. You undermine the horizon with your absence. Eternally in flight like the wave. Pablo Neruda dew horizon flower Hate is like a swordfish, working through water invisibly and then you see it coming with blood along its blade, but transparency disarms it. Pablo Neruda hate water blood What can I say without touching the earth with my hands? Pablo Neruda touching earth hands
