Pablo Neruda Poems

Yes, Pablo Neruda likes to fight, and it’s also on his tongue. But he expresses this best with his powerful poems. Originally Chilean Neruda, who to the public and to labor Maybe he gets his fondness for his father from the fact that his father was a laborer.

Since he was little, he learned to defend his right and fight because he grew up in the working class. Being a diplomat Therefore, many countries and people had the opportunity to get to know them. 69 years of life He talked about many countries with his poems. his love for Matilda and the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. Here are the poems that Pablo Neruda tells about love, love, people and longing for you!

Pablo Neruda poems:

• I Can Write The Saddest Poem Tonight
• So You Can Hear Me
• I Love Your Silence
• Sonnet to Matilde
• Sonnets of One Hundred Love VIII
• I’m Looking For Silence
• A Desperate Song
• Wreath from Autumn Flowers to Nazım

Maybe the last poem he wrote to her: I Can Write The Saddest Poem Tonight

I can write the saddest poem tonight
I can say: the night is full of stars
And the stars flicker blue far away
Singing, the night wind spins in the sky.
I can write the saddest poem tonight
I loved him, he loved me for a while.
I took it in my arms how many nights like tonight
How many times have I kissed him under the endless sky
He loved me and I loved him for a while
Wouldn’t those still, big eyes be loved?

I can write the saddest poem tonight.
Thinking of your absence and burning to your loss
Hear the night, the wider night without it.
Like dew that falls on grass, poetry falls to the soul by falling
What if my love couldn’t hold it?
The night is in the star, he is not a comrade to me
That’s all. Someone sings in the distance.
My heart can’t take it easy to lose
My eyes seek it, as if it wants to bring it closer
My heart seeks it, it is not a comrade to me

I don’t love anymore, how, how I loved
My voice seeks the wind to reach it
It’s good for hands. like before I kissed you.
With that voice, radiant skin and endless eyes
I don’t like it anymore, maybe I love it again
How long is forgetting, oh how short is love
On nights like this I took it in my arms because
My heart can’t take it easy to lose

Maybe it’s the last pain he gave me
Maybe this is the last poem that I wrote for him

Open call to the woman he fell in love with: Let Me Hear Me

Sometimes my words thin me so that you can hear
Like the tracks of seagulls on the beaches.
Choker, ecstatic rattle
For your hands as sweet as grapes.

And I see my words far away, I look.
They are yours, not mine.
They climb like old pity vines.
They climb such damp walls.

You own this bloody game.
Here they are fleeing from my dark den.
You are full of all, all of them are full of you.
Before you they wrapped the desolation where you settled

And they got used to my sadness, not you.
I want them to say now what I mean to you
So that you can hear them as you hear me.
A wind of depression carries my words.

Dream hurricanes are knocking down every now and then.
You hear other voices in my painful voice.
Lament from old mouths, blood from old tortures.
love me friend Do not leave me. Watch me.

Watch me, friend, in this wave of anxiety.
But my words turn into the color of your love.
You wrap it, you fill it all.
I make an endless necklace of them
For your sweet, white hands like grapes.

Missing can only be explained so clearly: I Love Your Silence

I love your silence, as if you
here as if
You can hear me from afar, my voice will not touch you.
Your eyes fly away
and your mouth is sealed with a kiss.

I love your silence, far away
you seem
It’s like you’re grieving, flirting like doves
butterfly-like.
You hear me from far away, my voice does not reach you.
Let me reach your stillness in your silence.
And let me speak with your silence
bright like a lamp, plain like a ring.
You are like the night, with your silence and your constellations
Your silence is like that of the stars, so distant, without prejudice.

I love your silence, as if you are not here
far away and full of sadness, as if you were dead.
Then one word is enough
I fly, I fly, that you live with the joy.

On the woman to whom Pablo Neruda dedicates ‘One Hundred Love Sonnets’: Sonnet to Matilde

You’ll see that I love you when I don’t
because life comes to you with two faces.
You see, a word becomes the wing of silence,
fire also takes its share from the cold.

I love you to start loving you
will make my love for you eternal
To start a journey over:
That’s why I don’t love you for now.

Happiness as if it’s in your hands
and the keys to an uncertain future full of sadness
I both love and dislike you.

My love has two souls to love you.
That’s why I love you when you don’t
and that’s why i love you while i love you.

Proof of how well Neruda loved: Sonnets of One Hundred Love VIII

If your eyes didn’t have the color of the moon
and mud days, work and fire,
and the elasticity of the air you can’t catch,
if you weren’t amber a week long,

and rising among the tubular flowers of autumn
If you weren’t in that yellow moment
and struggling among the flour in the sky
If you were not the bread made by the moon in its shine,

I would not have loved you then, O my beloved!
All that I have in my arms,
sand, time, tree of rain,

and everything lives so that I may live:
I see everything without a distance:
I sense everything that lives in your life.

Love, autumn, winter, summer and the eyes of the woman he loves: I’m Searching for Silence

Now they can relax
Now they can get used to being without me.

I’m closing my eyes.

I only want five things
five selected roots.

One is eternal love.

Fall to see the other.
I can’t live flying
without leaves falling to the ground.

Third, heavy winter,
I love the rain, its caress
in the rough cold of your fire.

Fourth, write
round like a watermelon.

And fifth, your eyes.
My Matildem, my darling,
I don’t want to sleep without your eyes
I don’t want to live if you don’t look at me:
I’m arranging the spring for you
to follow me with your eyes.

These are my friends, all I want.
Close to nothing, close to everything.

They can go now if they want.

I’ve been through so much that one day
they will forget me involuntarily,
by deleting from the blackboard:
my heart was inexhaustible.

But because I’m looking for silence
Do not think that I will die:
the opposite is true:
I will live.

I will exist and continue.

I can’t live though
If it doesn’t gush out, the crops in me will grow,
sprouts first, piercing the earth,
to reach the light,
but it is dark, mother earth:
dark is my depths:
I am like a well in water
the night that leaves the stars behind
and wandering alone in the countryside.

Since I’ve lived so long
I want to live so much.

My voice has never been so clear,
my kisses are so rich

It’s early as usual now.
A bee swarm light.

Leave me with the day
I ask permission to be born.

His fight with his people and his love: A Desperate Song

Your dream comes out of the night that surrounded me.
The river mixes his stubborn grumble with the sea.

Abandoned, like the docks at sunset.
This is the hour of separation, O abandoned!

Cold petals are raining on my heart.
O abyss of debris, the savage cave of those who have suffered an accident.

Battles and flights are gathered in you.
Wings of songbirds rise from you.

You swallowed everything like a distance.
Like the sea, like time, everything sank in you!

It was the happy hour of attack and kiss.
That ecstasy hour that shines like a lighthouse.

Fear of flight, blind diver rage,
turbulent ecstasy of your love, everything sank in you!

Winged, wounded my soul in the childhood of the haze.
Lost discovery, everything sank in you!

You wrapped the pain, you hold on to the desire,
You were ecstatic with sadness, everything sank in you!

I pushed back the shadow wall,
I walked and went beyond desire and action.

Ah, skin, my skin, the woman I loved and lost,
I call you in the old hour, I dedicate my song to you.

You took in the endless tenderness like a lantern
and shattered you into eternal oblivion.

There was the black solitude of the islands,
there woman of love, your arms embraced me.

There was thirst and hunger, you were the fruit.
There was pain and ruin, you were a miracle.

Oh woman, I don’t know how you melted me
in the soil of my soul, in your arms!

How terrible and short was my passion for you!
How hard and how ecstatic, how nervous and how hungry.

The cemetery of kisses is still not extinguished by the fire of their graves
still burns fertile branches pecked by birds.

O bitten mouth, o kissed organs,
O hungry teeth, O enveloping bodies.

O crazy connection of hope and effort,
in which we mingle and despair.

And tenderness is as light as water and dust,
the word begins vaguely between the lips.

It was my destiny, my journey of longing passed in it
And there my longing collapsed, everything sank in you!

O abyss of ruin, everything has fallen into it,
What sadness remained that you did not suffer, what waves remained
that doesn’t swallow you.

Yet you called out, sang from wave to wave.
Standing on the bow of the ship like a sailor.

You still bloom with songs, you still break in currents.
O abyss of debris, open and bitter well.

Pale blind diver, unfortunate of the depths,
lost explorer, everything sank in you!

This is the hour of separation, rude, hour like this.
The moment the night is marked on all timelines.

Wraps the shore, the rustling belt of the sea.
Cold stars rise, black birds migrate.

Abandoned, like the docks at sunset.
A shaky shadow remained playing in my hands.

Ah, far from everything. Far from everything.

This is the time of separation. O abandoned!

The poem he dedicated to Nazım Hikmet, saying, “We cannot even be poets next to him”: A Wreath from Autumn Flowers to Nazım

Why did you die, Nâzım?
what do we do now
missing your songs?
Where can we find another spring
let it be the smile you greet us with?
Like yours, fire and water mixed
full of pain and joy,
Where can we find the look that calls the truth?

My brother,
You created such deep feelings and thoughts in me,
bitter wind from the sea
if he was going to close them
drifts like a cloud, like a leaf,
you choose while living
and your shelter after death
there they fall into distant land.

Here’s a bunch of Chilean chrysanthemums
take the cold radiance of the moon over the south seas,
peoples war, my own fight
and the muffled roar of my homeland’s mournful drums
my brother, how am I alone in the world without you,
Longing for your face like the gold of a blossoming cherry tree,
who is bread for me, quenches my thirst, strength to my blood
lacks the friendship that gives.

We met when you got out of prison,
From the dim prison like a well of tyranny and pain,
I saw the traces of cruelty in their hands,
I searched for the arrows of quinine in your eyes,
but you had a bright heart,
a heart full of wounds and light.

What should I do now?
Can the world be designed
without the flowers you planted everywhere?
How to live without you as an example,
without hearing your folk wit, your poetic power?
Thanks for being like this.
Thank you for the fire you light with your songs.