Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.
PABLO NERUDAPeace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.
PABLO NERUDAFrom sorrow to sorrow love crosses its islands and establishes roots that are watered by weeping.
PABLO NERUDALove, how many roads to obtain a kiss.
PABLO NERUDAOur 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.
PABLO NERUDAJoyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit.
PABLO NERUDAPoetry is an act of peace.
PABLO NERUDALet us forget with generosity those who cannot love us.
PABLO NERUDASo 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 NERUDAToday is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.
PABLO NERUDAHe who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly.
PABLO NERUDAI love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
PABLO NERUDAIn the distance someone is singing.
PABLO NERUDAThe books that help you most are those which make you think that most.
PABLO NERUDAI have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.
PABLO NERUDALove is so short, forgetting is so long.
PABLO NERUDASomeday, somewhere – anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.
PABLO NERUDA