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Selected Poems of Pablo Neruda (Vintage Classics) by Pablo Neruda
The winner of the 1971 Nobel Prize for Literature, Pablo Neruda is regarded as the greatest Latin American poet of the twentieth century. This bilingual edition makes available a major selection of his poems, both in the original Spanish and impressively rendered into English by his most enduring translator, the poet Ben Belitt (Robert Creeley)."
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First published August 31, 1949
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About the author
Pablo Neruda
1,082 books9,632 followersPablo Neruda, born Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto in 1904 in Parral, Chile, was a poet, diplomat, and politician, widely considered one of the most influential literary figures of the 20th century. From an early age, he showed a deep passion for poetry, publishing his first works as a teenager. He adopted the pen name Pablo Neruda to avoid disapproval from his father, who discouraged his literary ambitions. His breakthrough came with Veinte poemas de amor y una canción desesperada (Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, 1924), a collection of deeply emotional and sensual poetry that gained international recognition and remains one of his most celebrated works.
Neruda’s career took him beyond literature into diplomacy, a path that allowed him to travel extensively and engage with political movements around the world. Beginning in 1927, he served in various consular posts in Asia and later in Spain, where he witnessed the Spanish Civil War and became an outspoken advocate for the Republican cause. His experiences led him to embrace communism, a commitment that would shape much of his later poetry and political activism. His collection España en el corazón (Spain in Our Hearts, 1937) reflected his deep sorrow over the war and marked a shift toward politically engaged writing.
Returning to Chile, he was elected to the Senate in 1945 as a member of the Communist Party. However, his vocal opposition to the repressive policies of President Gabriel Gonzalez Videla led to his exile. During this period, he traveled through various countries, including Argentina, Mexico, and the Soviet Union, further cementing his status as a global literary and political figure. It was during these years that he wrote Canto General (1950), an epic work chronicling Latin American history and the struggles of its people.
Neruda’s return to Chile in 1952 marked a new phase in his life, balancing political activity with a prolific literary output. He remained a staunch supporter of socialist ideals and later developed a close relationship with Salvador Allende, who appointed him as Chile’s ambassador to France in 1970. The following year, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, recognized for the scope and impact of his poetry. His later years were marked by illness, and he died in 1973, just days after the military coup that overthrew Allende. His legacy endures, not only in his vast body of work but also in his influence on literature, political thought, and the cultural identity of Latin America.
Neruda’s career took him beyond literature into diplomacy, a path that allowed him to travel extensively and engage with political movements around the world. Beginning in 1927, he served in various consular posts in Asia and later in Spain, where he witnessed the Spanish Civil War and became an outspoken advocate for the Republican cause. His experiences led him to embrace communism, a commitment that would shape much of his later poetry and political activism. His collection España en el corazón (Spain in Our Hearts, 1937) reflected his deep sorrow over the war and marked a shift toward politically engaged writing.
Returning to Chile, he was elected to the Senate in 1945 as a member of the Communist Party. However, his vocal opposition to the repressive policies of President Gabriel Gonzalez Videla led to his exile. During this period, he traveled through various countries, including Argentina, Mexico, and the Soviet Union, further cementing his status as a global literary and political figure. It was during these years that he wrote Canto General (1950), an epic work chronicling Latin American history and the struggles of its people.
Neruda’s return to Chile in 1952 marked a new phase in his life, balancing political activity with a prolific literary output. He remained a staunch supporter of socialist ideals and later developed a close relationship with Salvador Allende, who appointed him as Chile’s ambassador to France in 1970. The following year, he was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature, recognized for the scope and impact of his poetry. His later years were marked by illness, and he died in 1973, just days after the military coup that overthrew Allende. His legacy endures, not only in his vast body of work but also in his influence on literature, political thought, and the cultural identity of Latin America.
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September 18, 2018
Editor's Foreword
from Veinte Poemas de Amor (1924)
--I. Cuerpo de Mujer . . . / Body of a woman . . .
--III. Ah Vastedad de Pinos . . . / Ah Vastness of Pines . . .
--VII. Inclinado en las Tardes . . . / Leaning into the Afternoons . . .
--XIII. He Ido Marcando . . . / I Have Gone Marking . . .
--XIV. Juegas Todos Los Días . . . / Every Day You Play . . .
--XVII. Pensando, Enredando Sombras / Thinking, Tangling Shadows . . .
--XX. Puedo Escribir Los Versos . . . / Tonight I Can Write . . .
from Residencia en la Tierra, I (1933)
from I
--Alianza (Sonata) / Alliance (Sonata)
--Caballos de Los Sueños / Dream Horses
--Débil del Alba / Weak With the Dawn
--Unidad / Unity
--Sabor / Tang
--Ausencia de Joaquín / Absence of Joaquín
--Colección Nocturna / Nocturnal Collection
--Serenata / Serenade
--Arte Poética / Ars Poetica
--Sistema Sombrío / Bleak System
--Sonata y Destrucciones / Sonata and Destructions
from II
--La Noche del Soldado / The Night of the Soldier
--Establecimientos Nocturnos / Nocturnal Statutes
--Entierro en el Este / Burial in the East
from III
--Caballero Solo / Lone Gentleman
--Tango del Viudo / Widower's Tango
from IV
--Significa Sombras / Signifying Shadows
from Residencia en la Tierra, II (1935)
from I
--Sólo la muerte / Death Alone
--Barcarola / Barcarole
--El Sur del Océano / Oceanic South
from II
--Walking Around / Walking Around
from III
--Oda Con un Lamento / Ode With a Lament
from IV
--Entrada a la Madera / The Way Into Wood
from VI
--Vuelve el Otoño / Autumn Returns
--No Hay Olvido (Sonata) / There's No Forgetting (Sonata)
from Tercera Residencia (1947)
from I. La Ahogada del Cielo
--Alianza (Sonata) / Pact (Sonata)
--Vals / Waltz
--Bruselas / Brussels
--Naciendo en los Bosques / Being Born in the Woods
from II. Las Furias y Las Penas
--Las Furias y Las Penas / Furies and Sufferings
from IV. España en el Corazón
--Explico Algunas Cosas / I'm Explaining a Few Things
--Cómo Era España / The Way Spain Was
--Batalla del Río Jarama / Battle of the Jarama River
from Canto General (1950)
from I. La Lámpara en la Tierra
--Amor América (1400) / Love, America (1400)
--Algunas Bestias / Some Beasts
--Los Ríos Acuden / Entrance of the Rivers
from II. Alturas de Macchu Picchu
--La Poderosa Muerte . . . / Irresistible Death . . .
--Entonces en la Escala . . . / Then Up the Ladder
--Sube Conmigo . . . / Come Up with Me . . .
--Piedra en la Piedra . . . / Stone Within Stone . . .
--A Través del Confuso . . . / Through a Confusion . . .
from III. Los Conquistadores
--Vienen Por las Islas (1493) / They Come For the Islands (1493)
--Duerme un Soldado / A Soldier Sleeps
--Descubridores de Chile / Discoverers of Chile
--El Corazón Magallánico (1519) / The Magellan Heart (1519)
--A Pesar de la Ira / In Spite of Wrath
from IV. Los Libertadores
--Educación del Cacique / Education of the Chieftain
from XI. Las Flores de Punitaqui
--El Oro / Gold
--El Poeta / The Poet
from XIV. El Gran Océano
--El Gran Océano / The Great Ocean
--Los Peces y el Ahogado / The Fish and the Drowned Man
--Rapa Nui / Rapa Nui
--Los Constructores de Estatuas (Rapa Nui) / The Builders of Statues (Rapa Nui)
--La Lluvia (Rapa Nui) / Rain (Rapa Nui)
--Antártica / Antarctic
--La Ola / The Wave
--Los Navíos / The Ships
--A Una Estatua de Proa (Elegía) / To a Ship's Figurehead (Elegy)
--Las Aves Maltratadas / The Brutalized Birds
--Leviathan / Leviathan
--No Sólo el Albatros / Not Alone the Albatross
--La Noche Marina / The Marine Night
from XV. Yo Soy
--El Vino / Wine
from Odas Elementales (1954)
--Oda a Una Castaña en el Suelo / Ode to a Fallen Chestnut
--Oda al Libro (I) / Ode to the Book (I)
--Oda a Mirar Pájaros / Birdwatching Ode
--Oda al Pájaro Sofré / Ode to the Yellow Bird
--Oda a la Pereza / Ode to Laziness
--Oda a un Reloj en la Noche / Ode to a Watch at Night
--Oda al Tomate / Ode to the Tomato
--Oda a la Tormenta / Ode to the Storm
--Oda al Traje / Ode to the Clothes
--Oda a César Vallejo / Ode to Cesar Vallejo
from Nuevas Odas Elementales (1956)
--Oda a la Bella Desnuda / Ode to a Beautiful Nude
from Estravagario (1958)
--Y Cuánto Vive? / And How Long?
--Fábula de la Sirena y los Borrachos / Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
--El Miedo / Fear
--Muchos Somos / We are Many
--Demasiados Nombres / Too Many Names
--Furiosa Lucha de Marinos Con Pulpo de Colosales Dimensiones / Furious Struggle Between Seamen and an Octopus of Colossal Size
--El Perezoso / Lazybones
--Bestiario / Bestiary
--Testamento de Otoño / Autumn Testament
from Las Piedras de Chile (1961)
--Casa / House
--El León / The Lion
--Yo Volveré / I Will Come Back
--El Retrato en la Roca / The Portrait in the Rock
from Cantos Ceremoniales (1961)
--Fin de Fiesta / Fiesta's End
from Plenos Poderes (1962)
--Deber del Poeta / Poet's Obligation
--La Palabra / The Word
--Océano / Ocean
--El Mar / The Sea
--El Constructor / The Builder
--Pasado / Past
--El Pueblo / The Pueblo
from Memorial de Isla Negra (1964)
from I. Donde Nace la Lluvia
--La Poesía / Poetry
--La Pensión de la Calle Maruri / The Pension on the Calle Maruri
from II. La Luna en el Laberinto
--Religión en el Este / Religion in the East
--La Noche en Isla Negra / The Night in Isla Negra
from III. El Fuego Cruel
--El Desconocido / The Unknown One
--Mareas / Tides
from IV. El Cazador de Raíces
--El Pescador / The Fisherman
--Oh Tierra, Espérame / Oh Earth, Wait For Me
from V. Sonata Crítica
--La Soledad / Loneliness
--La Memoria / Memory
--El Largo Día Jueves / The Long Day Called Thursday
from Una Casa en la Arena (1966)
--Los Nombres / The Names
--La Bandera / The Flag
from La Barcarola (1967)
--La Barcarola Termina / The Watersong Ends
from Veinte Poemas de Amor (1924)
--I. Cuerpo de Mujer . . . / Body of a woman . . .
--III. Ah Vastedad de Pinos . . . / Ah Vastness of Pines . . .
--VII. Inclinado en las Tardes . . . / Leaning into the Afternoons . . .
--XIII. He Ido Marcando . . . / I Have Gone Marking . . .
--XIV. Juegas Todos Los Días . . . / Every Day You Play . . .
--XVII. Pensando, Enredando Sombras / Thinking, Tangling Shadows . . .
--XX. Puedo Escribir Los Versos . . . / Tonight I Can Write . . .
from Residencia en la Tierra, I (1933)
from I
--Alianza (Sonata) / Alliance (Sonata)
--Caballos de Los Sueños / Dream Horses
--Débil del Alba / Weak With the Dawn
--Unidad / Unity
--Sabor / Tang
--Ausencia de Joaquín / Absence of Joaquín
--Colección Nocturna / Nocturnal Collection
--Serenata / Serenade
--Arte Poética / Ars Poetica
--Sistema Sombrío / Bleak System
--Sonata y Destrucciones / Sonata and Destructions
from II
--La Noche del Soldado / The Night of the Soldier
--Establecimientos Nocturnos / Nocturnal Statutes
--Entierro en el Este / Burial in the East
from III
--Caballero Solo / Lone Gentleman
--Tango del Viudo / Widower's Tango
from IV
--Significa Sombras / Signifying Shadows
from Residencia en la Tierra, II (1935)
from I
--Sólo la muerte / Death Alone
--Barcarola / Barcarole
--El Sur del Océano / Oceanic South
from II
--Walking Around / Walking Around
from III
--Oda Con un Lamento / Ode With a Lament
from IV
--Entrada a la Madera / The Way Into Wood
from VI
--Vuelve el Otoño / Autumn Returns
--No Hay Olvido (Sonata) / There's No Forgetting (Sonata)
from Tercera Residencia (1947)
from I. La Ahogada del Cielo
--Alianza (Sonata) / Pact (Sonata)
--Vals / Waltz
--Bruselas / Brussels
--Naciendo en los Bosques / Being Born in the Woods
from II. Las Furias y Las Penas
--Las Furias y Las Penas / Furies and Sufferings
from IV. España en el Corazón
--Explico Algunas Cosas / I'm Explaining a Few Things
--Cómo Era España / The Way Spain Was
--Batalla del Río Jarama / Battle of the Jarama River
from Canto General (1950)
from I. La Lámpara en la Tierra
--Amor América (1400) / Love, America (1400)
--Algunas Bestias / Some Beasts
--Los Ríos Acuden / Entrance of the Rivers
from II. Alturas de Macchu Picchu
--La Poderosa Muerte . . . / Irresistible Death . . .
--Entonces en la Escala . . . / Then Up the Ladder
--Sube Conmigo . . . / Come Up with Me . . .
--Piedra en la Piedra . . . / Stone Within Stone . . .
--A Través del Confuso . . . / Through a Confusion . . .
from III. Los Conquistadores
--Vienen Por las Islas (1493) / They Come For the Islands (1493)
--Duerme un Soldado / A Soldier Sleeps
--Descubridores de Chile / Discoverers of Chile
--El Corazón Magallánico (1519) / The Magellan Heart (1519)
--A Pesar de la Ira / In Spite of Wrath
from IV. Los Libertadores
--Educación del Cacique / Education of the Chieftain
from XI. Las Flores de Punitaqui
--El Oro / Gold
--El Poeta / The Poet
from XIV. El Gran Océano
--El Gran Océano / The Great Ocean
--Los Peces y el Ahogado / The Fish and the Drowned Man
--Rapa Nui / Rapa Nui
--Los Constructores de Estatuas (Rapa Nui) / The Builders of Statues (Rapa Nui)
--La Lluvia (Rapa Nui) / Rain (Rapa Nui)
--Antártica / Antarctic
--La Ola / The Wave
--Los Navíos / The Ships
--A Una Estatua de Proa (Elegía) / To a Ship's Figurehead (Elegy)
--Las Aves Maltratadas / The Brutalized Birds
--Leviathan / Leviathan
--No Sólo el Albatros / Not Alone the Albatross
--La Noche Marina / The Marine Night
from XV. Yo Soy
--El Vino / Wine
from Odas Elementales (1954)
--Oda a Una Castaña en el Suelo / Ode to a Fallen Chestnut
--Oda al Libro (I) / Ode to the Book (I)
--Oda a Mirar Pájaros / Birdwatching Ode
--Oda al Pájaro Sofré / Ode to the Yellow Bird
--Oda a la Pereza / Ode to Laziness
--Oda a un Reloj en la Noche / Ode to a Watch at Night
--Oda al Tomate / Ode to the Tomato
--Oda a la Tormenta / Ode to the Storm
--Oda al Traje / Ode to the Clothes
--Oda a César Vallejo / Ode to Cesar Vallejo
from Nuevas Odas Elementales (1956)
--Oda a la Bella Desnuda / Ode to a Beautiful Nude
from Estravagario (1958)
--Y Cuánto Vive? / And How Long?
--Fábula de la Sirena y los Borrachos / Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks
--El Miedo / Fear
--Muchos Somos / We are Many
--Demasiados Nombres / Too Many Names
--Furiosa Lucha de Marinos Con Pulpo de Colosales Dimensiones / Furious Struggle Between Seamen and an Octopus of Colossal Size
--El Perezoso / Lazybones
--Bestiario / Bestiary
--Testamento de Otoño / Autumn Testament
from Las Piedras de Chile (1961)
--Casa / House
--El León / The Lion
--Yo Volveré / I Will Come Back
--El Retrato en la Roca / The Portrait in the Rock
from Cantos Ceremoniales (1961)
--Fin de Fiesta / Fiesta's End
from Plenos Poderes (1962)
--Deber del Poeta / Poet's Obligation
--La Palabra / The Word
--Océano / Ocean
--El Mar / The Sea
--El Constructor / The Builder
--Pasado / Past
--El Pueblo / The Pueblo
from Memorial de Isla Negra (1964)
from I. Donde Nace la Lluvia
--La Poesía / Poetry
--La Pensión de la Calle Maruri / The Pension on the Calle Maruri
from II. La Luna en el Laberinto
--Religión en el Este / Religion in the East
--La Noche en Isla Negra / The Night in Isla Negra
from III. El Fuego Cruel
--El Desconocido / The Unknown One
--Mareas / Tides
from IV. El Cazador de Raíces
--El Pescador / The Fisherman
--Oh Tierra, Espérame / Oh Earth, Wait For Me
from V. Sonata Crítica
--La Soledad / Loneliness
--La Memoria / Memory
--El Largo Día Jueves / The Long Day Called Thursday
from Una Casa en la Arena (1966)
--Los Nombres / The Names
--La Bandera / The Flag
from La Barcarola (1967)
--La Barcarola Termina / The Watersong Ends
November 30, 2015
There are no words which can explain how beautiful these poems are!
I was under the impression that Neruda writes only poems about LOVE. But what an imbecile presumption! How great and beautiful his empathetic poems of slaughtered children, blood-spilled streets, harpooned whales, ambushed bird-nests, threatening months, deep oceans, weary fishermen, and love-sick hearts are!
I was under the impression that Neruda writes only poems about LOVE. But what an imbecile presumption! How great and beautiful his empathetic poems of slaughtered children, blood-spilled streets, harpooned whales, ambushed bird-nests, threatening months, deep oceans, weary fishermen, and love-sick hearts are!
June 18, 2023
Pablo Neruda is my favorite poet. I enjoy his work very much and would recommend it to all.
July 2, 2021
The wind, the waves and poetry. What should we long more for?
It is a lonely region, I have already spoken
of that region so desolate
where the earth is brim-full of ocean
and there is no one - only tracks of horses,
no one save the wind, no one
only the rain adding to the sea's waters,
no one, only the rain growing over the sea.
*
how huge the night is, how lonely the earth
*
here let us submit to the sea's return, our destiny.
It is a lonely region, I have already spoken
of that region so desolate
where the earth is brim-full of ocean
and there is no one - only tracks of horses,
no one save the wind, no one
only the rain adding to the sea's waters,
no one, only the rain growing over the sea.
*
how huge the night is, how lonely the earth
*
here let us submit to the sea's return, our destiny.
August 2, 2017
This:
“I want
to do with you what Spring does with the cherry trees.”
Buried in an early poem in this collection, “Every Day You Play,” this line won me over, made my knees weak. It kept coming to my mind the rest of that day, and the next. Who is able to write such a line?
Pablo Neruda has a gift. Where we see a tomato, he sees this, from "Ode to the Tomato":
“red viscera, a fresh, deep, inexhaustible sun floods the salads of Chile.”
What more can we ask for in a poet, than to show us the beauty we have missed?
As he puts it so perfectly in “Too Many Names,”
"I have a mind to confuse things,
unite them, bring them to birth,
mix them up, undress them,
until the light of the world
has the oneness of the ocean,
a generous, vast wholeness,
a crepitant fragrance.”
This collection is a delight, a feast. But unlike a meal, these poems can be savored again and again, which is exactly what I plan to do.
“I want
to do with you what Spring does with the cherry trees.”
Buried in an early poem in this collection, “Every Day You Play,” this line won me over, made my knees weak. It kept coming to my mind the rest of that day, and the next. Who is able to write such a line?
Pablo Neruda has a gift. Where we see a tomato, he sees this, from "Ode to the Tomato":
“red viscera, a fresh, deep, inexhaustible sun floods the salads of Chile.”
What more can we ask for in a poet, than to show us the beauty we have missed?
As he puts it so perfectly in “Too Many Names,”
"I have a mind to confuse things,
unite them, bring them to birth,
mix them up, undress them,
until the light of the world
has the oneness of the ocean,
a generous, vast wholeness,
a crepitant fragrance.”
This collection is a delight, a feast. But unlike a meal, these poems can be savored again and again, which is exactly what I plan to do.
December 2, 2016
There are hardly any words adequate for describing the poetry of Neruda. This along with 20 songs of desperation is my favourite and is absolutely beautiful. Whether it is about Macchu Pichu or soldiers or about love, his mastery of language and the music of words is mesmerising.
The petals of the ocean contend with a planet's pulsation.
The underseas granaries tremble.
A gloss on the sea-lettuce poises its menace,
a swimming and swarming of schools;
the mesh of the net-cord, ascending,
draws up only a fish scale's extinction of lightning
one wounded gradation of distance
in the crystal's accomplished perfection
This collection was carefully and wonderfully translated by Ben Belitt and includes the original Spanish on the left pages for comparison.
The petals of the ocean contend with a planet's pulsation.
The underseas granaries tremble.
A gloss on the sea-lettuce poises its menace,
a swimming and swarming of schools;
the mesh of the net-cord, ascending,
draws up only a fish scale's extinction of lightning
one wounded gradation of distance
in the crystal's accomplished perfection
This collection was carefully and wonderfully translated by Ben Belitt and includes the original Spanish on the left pages for comparison.
July 2, 2022
Pablo Neruda, my one and only favourite poet. I first came across Neruda’s poems whilst searching for poems for my wedding in 2019. I visited his home ‘La Sebastiana’ in Valparaiso on the honeymoon and was enamored with it. I bought the merch and souvenirs.
The poetry itself was beautiful. Each one captured a moment, a feeling, a place, a time. I particularly liked the string of poems about nature. My favourite was The Wave. Here is a snippet:
‘The wave comes up from the bottom, with roots that are the daughters of the submerged firmament. Its elastic invasion was mounted by the pure potency of the Ocean: its eternity came on inundating the pavilions of deep dominion, each essence offering resistance, as it scattered cold fire from its waist until from the boughs in full force it loosed its snowtopped might.’
I also liked the ones about devotion to something, whether it be a person, a body, a ship returning on the horizon. I think I like Neruda’s raw expressions of being pathetic. There were some about being so desperate for one last touch or pleading whether they will ever see them again.
I was not able to actually visualise what a lot of the poems were saying. I just knew they sounded good at the time and tried to make sense of them as best I could. So I usually only read a few pages at a time to take it all in hence the long reading time (>6 months) for this book.
For the language learners out there, this book has the original poem in Spanish on the left, and in English on the right. Although the language is cryptic and could be challenging. So perhaps better for the advanced level.
Even though poetry is not my thing, I really enjoyed reading this and I’m glad I got to experience it.
The poetry itself was beautiful. Each one captured a moment, a feeling, a place, a time. I particularly liked the string of poems about nature. My favourite was The Wave. Here is a snippet:
‘The wave comes up from the bottom, with roots that are the daughters of the submerged firmament. Its elastic invasion was mounted by the pure potency of the Ocean: its eternity came on inundating the pavilions of deep dominion, each essence offering resistance, as it scattered cold fire from its waist until from the boughs in full force it loosed its snowtopped might.’
I also liked the ones about devotion to something, whether it be a person, a body, a ship returning on the horizon. I think I like Neruda’s raw expressions of being pathetic. There were some about being so desperate for one last touch or pleading whether they will ever see them again.
I was not able to actually visualise what a lot of the poems were saying. I just knew they sounded good at the time and tried to make sense of them as best I could. So I usually only read a few pages at a time to take it all in hence the long reading time (>6 months) for this book.
For the language learners out there, this book has the original poem in Spanish on the left, and in English on the right. Although the language is cryptic and could be challenging. So perhaps better for the advanced level.
Even though poetry is not my thing, I really enjoyed reading this and I’m glad I got to experience it.
February 28, 2015
Beautiful work. This is the kind of poetry that makes people who hate poetry decide that they might actually love it.
And this poem:
Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you
If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
Remember
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land.
is quite possibly the only reason I didn't jump off of a bridge 3 years ago.
So, thank you, Pablo.
And this poem:
Well, now
If little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you
Little by little
If suddenly you forget me
Do not look for me
For I shall already have forgotten you
If you think it long and mad the wind of banners that passes through my life
And you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots
Remember
That on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms
And my roots will set off to seek another land.
is quite possibly the only reason I didn't jump off of a bridge 3 years ago.
So, thank you, Pablo.
March 22, 2020
Por muchos defectos que haya tenido Neruda - que no eran pocos y que además cada vez salen más a la luz - su obra lírica es INCREÍBLE.
Creo, de hecho, que gracias a él es que me gusta la literatura, que vino al principio a mí de mano de la poesía. Por haber tenido la suerte de haber crecido rodeada de varios de los poemas que hay en esta selección. La mayoría todavía me los sé de memoria.
Hay pocas cosas más completas, más límpidas, más preciosas, más perfectas.
Creo, de hecho, que gracias a él es que me gusta la literatura, que vino al principio a mí de mano de la poesía. Por haber tenido la suerte de haber crecido rodeada de varios de los poemas que hay en esta selección. La mayoría todavía me los sé de memoria.
Hay pocas cosas más completas, más límpidas, más preciosas, más perfectas.
November 23, 2018
Apenas medio puñado de palabras
Terminé hoy con la antología. La selección es amplia, eso es bueno, da perspectiva, posibilidad de asomarse con calma. No conecté del todo con la propuesta de Neruda. Me pareció por momentos miope, por momentos ebrio. La miopía y la ebriedad son los males del siglo. ¿De qué siglo? Qué se yo, de alguno. Quizás vuelva luego para hablar de la "Residencia en la tierra" que es bárbaro, o de "Canto general", que oscila entre la genialidad y el desamparo. No sé. Quizás luego. Hoy me vence el cansancio.
Terminé hoy con la antología. La selección es amplia, eso es bueno, da perspectiva, posibilidad de asomarse con calma. No conecté del todo con la propuesta de Neruda. Me pareció por momentos miope, por momentos ebrio. La miopía y la ebriedad son los males del siglo. ¿De qué siglo? Qué se yo, de alguno. Quizás vuelva luego para hablar de la "Residencia en la tierra" que es bárbaro, o de "Canto general", que oscila entre la genialidad y el desamparo. No sé. Quizás luego. Hoy me vence el cansancio.
March 31, 2015
My first copy of this book has now officially fallen apart. I can't count the number of times I've read it, but its current (pathetic) condition gives me some idea. Here's a gem you might overlook, because it doesn't fit into any of the usual categories: "Walking Around." Try reading it out loud--it's even more powerful that way. Either way, it's pure genius. And I'm embarrassed to admit I know nearly all of the love poems by heart, at least in English. Might learn Spanish just to be able to read Neruda in his native language, but these translations are sublime.
August 7, 2018
সব দেশের কবিতাতেই বোধহয় "স্নানের জলে বাষ্পে মাখো জল" কিসিমের ফাঁকা আওয়াজ থাকে। নেরুদার, বিশেষতঃ রেসিদেন্সিয়া এন লা তিয়েরার সময়ে, এই ধরনের কাজ একটু বেশি। এর উপর আছে আমাপোলা আর সেরেসোর, মানে পপি গাছ আর চেরী ফুলের আলাপ। এইগুলি হচ্ছে বিদেশীদের আনন্দ ভৈরবী পড়তে দেয়ার মতো, বরষাপীড়িত ফুল আপনি স্পেনীয় নারীরে কীভাবে বোঝাবেন!
নেরুদারে ভালো লাগে, তার স্পেন কেমন ছিলো কবিতাটার জন্য। কেউ যদি লিখে দিয়ে যাইতো, কেমন ছিলো বাংলাদেশ। চারদিকে আহাজারি, চারদিকে বিপদ। আমি ছুটি চাইছিলাম খোদা।
নেরুদারে ভালো লাগে, তার স্পেন কেমন ছিলো কবিতাটার জন্য। কেউ যদি লিখে দিয়ে যাইতো, কেমন ছিলো বাংলাদেশ। চারদিকে আহাজারি, চারদিকে বিপদ। আমি ছুটি চাইছিলাম খোদা।
October 21, 2015
Incredible beauty in these poems. And what a powerful trip, to be transported into Neruda's wild, naturalistic imagination. No technology, only biology and raw nature.
June 3, 2020
I am not a huge fan of poetry. No. This is not my thing. But Neruda is maybe one of few whose work I enjoy. I didn't read the whole book. The collection starts with selected poems from 100 Love Sonnets. After the first part, I felt that if I continue to read from his other collections, the magic of Neruda will be lost for me. And I want to carry his magic with me, because these selected poems from 100 Love Sonnets were pure magic.
April 26, 2021
Oh my dear Neruda. Jei jums nepatinka poezija, tai jūs dar neskaitėtė Jo poezijos. Šis rinkinys nėra pradedančiąjam, čia tiem, kas jau žino jo braižą ir nori daugiau. Daugelio akyse Neruda rašė tik apie meilę, tačiau šiame rinkinyje jos yra mažiausiai. Beveik keturis dešimtmečius apimantys jo darbai įvairiausiomis temomis: gamta, politika, moterys... Jo poemos parašytos taip, kad galima bet kada atsiversti knygą iš naujo, durti pirštu ir skaityti antrą ar penktą kartą tą patį, nes visada atsiranda naujas kampas, vis kita eilutė išsiskiria. Nesakysiu, kad visi darbai iki vieno patiko šiame rinkinyje, nevengiau pradėjus mesti viduryje, jei matau, kad neįsijaučiau, bet nevengiau ir vėl sugrįžti ir atsiversti kažko paskaityti dar kartą.
ODE TO THE STORM
Last night
she
came,
livid,
night-blue,
wine-red:
the tempest
with her
hair of water
, eyes of cold fire-
last night she wanted
to sleep on earth.
She came all of a sudden
newly unleashed
out of her furious planet,
her cavern in the sky;
she longed for sleep
and made her bed:
sweeping jungles and highways,
sweeping mountains,
washing ocean stones,
and then
as if they were feathers,
ravaging pine trees
to make her bed.
....
Tačiau pirmai pažinčiai labiausiai rekomenduoju rinkinį The Captain's Verses !
ODE TO THE STORM
Last night
she
came,
livid,
night-blue,
wine-red:
the tempest
with her
hair of water
, eyes of cold fire-
last night she wanted
to sleep on earth.
She came all of a sudden
newly unleashed
out of her furious planet,
her cavern in the sky;
she longed for sleep
and made her bed:
sweeping jungles and highways,
sweeping mountains,
washing ocean stones,
and then
as if they were feathers,
ravaging pine trees
to make her bed.
....
Tačiau pirmai pažinčiai labiausiai rekomenduoju rinkinį The Captain's Verses !
January 2, 2015
Soneto XXIX
Vens da pobreza das casas do Sul,
das regiões duras com frio e terramoto
que quando até os seus deuses rolaram para a morte
nos deram a lição da vida na greda.
És um cavalinho de greda negra, um beijo
de barro escuro, amor, amapola de greda,
pomba do crepúsculo que voou nos caminhos,
cofre com lágrimas da nossa pobre infância.
Môça, conservaste o teu coração de pobre,
os teus pés de pobre acostumados às pedras,
a tua boca que nem sempre teve pão ou delícia.
És do pobre Sul, de onde vem a minha alma:
no seu céu a tua mãe continua lavando roupa
com a minha mãe. Por isso te escolhi , companheira.
Vens da pobreza das casas do Sul,
das regiões duras com frio e terramoto
que quando até os seus deuses rolaram para a morte
nos deram a lição da vida na greda.
És um cavalinho de greda negra, um beijo
de barro escuro, amor, amapola de greda,
pomba do crepúsculo que voou nos caminhos,
cofre com lágrimas da nossa pobre infância.
Môça, conservaste o teu coração de pobre,
os teus pés de pobre acostumados às pedras,
a tua boca que nem sempre teve pão ou delícia.
És do pobre Sul, de onde vem a minha alma:
no seu céu a tua mãe continua lavando roupa
com a minha mãe. Por isso te escolhi , companheira.
August 1, 2014
I see only a summer's
transparency, I sing nothing but wind,
[...]
and I stand by myself
in the spring, knowing nothing but rivers.
transparency, I sing nothing but wind,
[...]
and I stand by myself
in the spring, knowing nothing but rivers.
July 12, 2024
Can't finish this. It is hard to ignore the misogyny and extreme objectification after one point.
July 1, 2025
Aunque me harto de su obsesión 'poética' con los pezones y con una cierta 'raza cosmica', vaga y pálida sin ni piel ni sangre, realmente creo que la melodía de su poesía no tiene igual en el Español. Leyendo sus obras mas maduras, descubrí dentro de mí la semilla de algo que se podría nombrar 'amor.'
'Y yo, mínimo ser,
ebrio del gran vacío
constelado,
a semejanza, a imagen
del misterio,
me sentí parte pura
del abismo,
rodé con las estrellas,
mi corazón se desató en el viento.'
-Del poema 'La Poesía'
'Y yo, mínimo ser,
ebrio del gran vacío
constelado,
a semejanza, a imagen
del misterio,
me sentí parte pura
del abismo,
rodé con las estrellas,
mi corazón se desató en el viento.'
-Del poema 'La Poesía'
February 28, 2023
gorgeous - took me a few months of casual-before-bed-reading, but wow. so warm and full of appreciation of daily life. honestly might start re-reading this now.
(great for bringing my spanish back from the dead as well and a wild ride in terms of translation, sometimes it feels like you're reading two different poems that don't always say the same thing, but hey, more poems for me ig!)
(great for bringing my spanish back from the dead as well and a wild ride in terms of translation, sometimes it feels like you're reading two different poems that don't always say the same thing, but hey, more poems for me ig!)
August 8, 2008
This book allows you to see how his poems progressed over the years. They begin in 1924 and end in 1967. He selected these poems himself for the book. It shows his voice in everything surronding him. Very rich, colorful and moving!
January 10, 2011
ode to my socks is probably one of the most comforting, wooly poems you will ever read in your life.
November 21, 2020
I enjoyed being able to read the poems in Spanish, and in English, and then compare the specific language of the Spanish version with the English version translated. Such elegance and eye-opening. Some effected me more than others, as with most poetry collections, but the composition and symbolism of Neruda is compelling; he writes with such a carefree elegance.
September 5, 2024
šis, vairāk vai mazāk, ir nerudas ne-romantiskākais krājums
bet krūtis viņš mīl kā neko citu!
bet krūtis viņš mīl kā neko citu!
February 28, 2022
I was really impressed by Neruda's poetry, I always thought he only wrote about love, but this book showcases his beautiful writing and most thought provoking works. LOVED ITT
August 24, 2017
I had forgotten how much I loved Neruda and it was so refreshing to read more of his poetry that are not love poems, though I love them as well.
And I think I need to read more of his poetry that is focused on war, Latin America, etc. because to a degree they are all about love just not all about women.
And I think I need to read more of his poetry that is focused on war, Latin America, etc. because to a degree they are all about love just not all about women.
September 13, 2018
BEING BORN IN THE WOODS
"When the rice withdraws from the earth
the grains of its flour,
when the wheat hardens its little hip-joints and lifts its face of a thousand hands,
I make my way to the grove where the woman and the man embrace,
to touch the innumerable sea
of what continues.
...
Lives resting beside my clothes like parallel doves
or contained in my own existence and in my lawless sound
in order to return to being, to lay hold on the air denuded of its leaf
and on the moist birth of the soil in the wreath: how long
can I return and be, how long can the odour
of the most deeply buried flowers, of the waves most finely
pulverized on the high rocks, preserve in me their homeland
where they can return to be fury and perfume?
..."
Leaning into the afternoons
"...
Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets
to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.
The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.
The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land. "
THERE'S NO FORGETTING (SONATA)
"Ask me where I have been
and I'll tell you: “Things keep on happening.”
I must talk of the rubble that darkens the stones;
of the river’s duration, destroying itself;
I know only the things that the birds have abandoned,
or the ocean behind me, or my sorrowing sister.
Why the distinctions of place? Why should day
follow day? Why must the blackness
of nighttime collect in our mouths? Why the dead?
.........................
Here let us halt, in the teeth of a barrier:
useless to gnaw on the husks that the silence assembles.
For I come without answers:
see: the dying are legion,
legion, the breakwaters breached by the red of the sun,
the headpieces knocking the ship’s side,
the hands closing over their kisses,
and legion the things I would give to oblivion."
"When the rice withdraws from the earth
the grains of its flour,
when the wheat hardens its little hip-joints and lifts its face of a thousand hands,
I make my way to the grove where the woman and the man embrace,
to touch the innumerable sea
of what continues.
...
Lives resting beside my clothes like parallel doves
or contained in my own existence and in my lawless sound
in order to return to being, to lay hold on the air denuded of its leaf
and on the moist birth of the soil in the wreath: how long
can I return and be, how long can the odour
of the most deeply buried flowers, of the waves most finely
pulverized on the high rocks, preserve in me their homeland
where they can return to be fury and perfume?
..."
Leaning into the afternoons
"...
Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets
to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes.
The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.
The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land. "
THERE'S NO FORGETTING (SONATA)
"Ask me where I have been
and I'll tell you: “Things keep on happening.”
I must talk of the rubble that darkens the stones;
of the river’s duration, destroying itself;
I know only the things that the birds have abandoned,
or the ocean behind me, or my sorrowing sister.
Why the distinctions of place? Why should day
follow day? Why must the blackness
of nighttime collect in our mouths? Why the dead?
.........................
Here let us halt, in the teeth of a barrier:
useless to gnaw on the husks that the silence assembles.
For I come without answers:
see: the dying are legion,
legion, the breakwaters breached by the red of the sun,
the headpieces knocking the ship’s side,
the hands closing over their kisses,
and legion the things I would give to oblivion."
June 9, 2012
Pablo Neruda, I picked up this because my boyfriend took him as an inspiration :) I respect and like my boyfriend's work a lot, and so I dove right in. However, because people try to copy him all the time, my view was tainted. I could not fully appreciate his work because of all the people who are trying to copy him, oh god, it hurt me. It hurt me because the familiarity of each stanza, the way people scrape up this man's work, it just warped it all. Can you get me? Like you trying to read some beautiful work and like you just remember how others butchered this style. I decided I'll read it again when I get older. I think my favourite though is "I Would Like You to Be Still" which is the first poem I read from him with much interest from a website dedicated to him.
December 29, 2016
Es un libro que siempre leo, generalmente algunos poemas sueltos pero este año lo relei entero por reencontrarme con Neruda y con mi adolescencia
May 19, 2018
Relentlessly stunning. A collection to savour, to love, and to remember.
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