-
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
-
And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.
-
Our love was born outside the walls, in the wind, in the night, in the earth, and that's why the clay and the flower, the mud and the roots know your name.
-
¿Quién escribe tu nombre con letras de humo entre las estrellas del sur?Ah déjame recordarte cómo eras entonces, cuando aún no existías.
-
Quiero hacer contigo lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos.
-
Donde termina el arco iris, en tu alma o en el horizonte? Where does the rainbow end, in your soul or on the horizon?
-
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.
-
Como se reparten el sol en el naranjo las naranjas? How do the oranges divide up sunlight in the orange tree?
-
But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.
-
The books that help you most are those which make you think that most. The hardest way of learning is that of easy reading; but a great book that comes from a great thinker is a ship of thought, deep freighted with truth and beauty.
-
Estoy solo entre materias desvencijadas,la lluvia cae sobre mí, y se me parece,se me parece con su desvarío,solitaria en el mundo muerto,rechazada al caer, y sin forma obstinada.
-
I want to see the thirst inside the syllables I want to touch the fire in the sound: I want to feel the darkness of the cry. I want words as rough as virgin rocks.” - Verb.
-
You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend...I bow to them...I love them, I cling to them, I run them down, I bite into them, I melt them down...I love words so much...The unexpected ones...The ones I wait for greedily or stalk until, suddenly, they drop.
-
If suddenly you do not exist, If suddenly you are not living, I shall go on living. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you die. I shall go on living.
-
You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
-
Debajo de tu piel vive la luna.
-
A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.
-
Is there anything more insane in this life than being called Pablo Neruda?
-
When everything seems to be set to show me off as intelligent, the fool I always keep hidden takes over all that I say.
-
Here I came to the very edge where nothing at all needs saying, everything is absorbed through weather and the sea, and the moon swam back, its rays all silvered, and time and again the darkness would be broken by the crash of a wave, and every day on the balcony of the sea, wings open, fire is born, and everything is blue again like morning.
-
I learned about life from life itself, love I learned in a single kiss and could teach no one anything except that I have lived with something in common among men.
-
Preguntaréis: ¿Y dónde están las lilas?¿Y la metafísica cubierta de amapolas?¿Y la lluvia que a menudo golpeabasus palabras llenándolasde agujeros y pájaros?
-
Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
-
Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.