so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. Pablo Neruda More Quotes by Pablo Neruda More Quotes From Pablo Neruda Between lips and lips there are cities of great ash and moist summit, drops of when and how, vague comings and goings: between lips and lips as along a shore of sand and glass the wind passes. Pablo Neruda glasses cities wind From scarlet to powdered gold, to blazing yellow, to the rare ashen emerald, to the orange and black velvet of your shimmering corselet, out to the tip that like an amber thorn begins you, small, superlative being, you are a miracle, and you blaze Pablo Neruda orange yellow beauty Pale blind diver, luckless slinger, lost discoverer, in you everything sank! Pablo Neruda pale blind lost I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything, I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic shops, and courtyards with washing hanging from the line: underwear, towels and shirts from which slow dirty tears are falling. Pablo Neruda eye dirty fall Over your breasts of motionless current, over your legs of firmness and water, over the permanence and the pride of your naked hair I want to be, my love, now that the tears are thrown into the raucous baskets where they accumulate, I want to be, my love, alone with a syllable of mangled silver, alone with a tip of your breast of snow. Pablo Neruda pride hair snow Oh love, rose made wet by mermaids and foams, fire that dances and climbs up the invisible stairs and awakens the blood in the tunnel of sleeplessness. Pablo Neruda tunnels fire love The word Pablo Neruda grief dark father We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses. Pablo Neruda kissing love night Death is the stone into which our oblivion hardens. Pablo Neruda oblivion stones death I walked around as you do, investigating the endless star, and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind. Pablo Neruda stars wind night Will our life not be a tunnel between two vague clarities? Or will it not be a clarity between two dark triangles? Pablo Neruda tunnels dark two In love, you have loosened yourself like seawater Pablo Neruda love-you For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing. Pablo Neruda breathing writing I had no more alphabet than the journeying of the swallows, the pure and tiny water of the small, fiery bird that dances rising from the pollen. Pablo Neruda rising bird water We open the halves of a miracle, and a clotting of acids brims into the starry divisions: creation's original juices, irreducible, changeless, alive: so the freshness lives on Pablo Neruda juice division miracle Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon? Pablo Neruda rainbow irises soul Nobody can claim the name of Pedro, nobody is Rosa or María, all of us are dust or sand, all of us are rain under rain. They have spoken to me of Venezuelas, of Chiles and Paraguays; I have no idea what they are saying. I know only the skin of the earth and I know it has no name. Pablo Neruda dust names rain I stalk certain words... I catch them in mid-flight, as they buzz past, I trap them, clean them, peel them, I set myself in front of the dish, they have a crystalline texture to me, vibrant, ivory, vegetable, oily, like fruit, like algae, like agates, like olives... I stir them, I shake them, I drink them, I gulp them down, I mash them, I garnish them... I leave them in my poem like stalactites, like slivers of polished wood, like coals, like pickings from a shipwreck, gifts from the waves... Everything exists in the word. Pablo Neruda ivory vegetables past And what importance do I have in the courtroom of oblivion? Pablo Neruda courtroom oblivion importance Where were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly when I am sad and feel you are far away? Pablo Neruda far-away whole feels
