Isla Negra

by Pablo Neruda, Clark Zlotchew (translator), Maria Jacketti (translator)

Few writers are as integrally bound to a place as Pablo Neruda was to the landscape of Isla Negra on Chile’s coast. From his arrival there in the late 1930s to his death in 1973, Neruda captured Isla Negra in images fundamental to an understanding of his work. It was, according to Martin Espada, at Isla Negra where Neruda "in the company of his muse, walked alongside the source of his most lyrical inspiration, the sea...and discovered a new way of seeing, as the ocean became a living metaphor for the infinite riches of the world." The poems, selected from three volumes of Neruda’s work, are presented with photographs of Neruda and his house in an attractive gift format. Nobel Prize-winning poet Pablo Neruda, who died in 1973, remains one of the most influential voices in world literature.

Genres: Poetry, Nonfiction, Latin American, Latin American Literature, Spanish Literature

96 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1964

About the author

Pablo 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.

Reviews

[g. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Absolutely beautiful. I carry this around me like a book of psalms. The harsh stones of the scenery become sweet melodies under Neruda's words. This is poetry that touches the core, the most primordial part of the soul, the beginning and the end.

From the poem House:

"I touch the stubborn spirit of the rock,
its rampart pounds in the brine,
and my flaws remain here,
wrinkled essence that rose
from the depths to my soul,
and stone I was, stone I will be. Because of this
I touch the this stone, and for me it hasn't died:
it's what I was, what I will be, resting
from a struggle long as time."

[El · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pablo Neruda is possibly one of the hottest poets ever to have set foot upon this earth, and I do not mean in a physical sense. The man could write sex on paper like no one's bidness. You're done with the poem before you even realize that what you just read was pure unadulterated sex, and then you have to go back and re-read just so you didn't miss all the good stuff. That's a hot quality to possess.

This particular collection of poems was a collection Neruda wrote to himself as a birthday present for himself. Also hot. He was older at the time, and had a lot to reflect upon. The collection is split into smaller "books", each covering a different period in his life - the first dealing with his childhood and family matters, etc., the second is a reflection on his twenties or so, the next is about his politics and about war and on it goes.

It's a great collection. As always his words are magical and beautiful. I don't want to ruin my street cred by getting all gooey about his love poems, but there are many both in this collection and in his other books and all of them are absolutely worth checking out. This was a Christmas present to me by my boyfriend a few years back and it's hard for me to understand why I waited this long to read it. But I'm glad I finally did.

I'm no director, I'm not in charge of anything,
and for that reason I treasure
the errors in my song.

-from the poem "Truth"

HOT.

[Irou Li Cherry]

ΟΙ ΕΓΚΑΤΑΛΕΛΕΙΜΕΝΟΙ

Όχι μόνο η θάλασσα, όχι μονάχα η αχτή, ο αφρός,
πουλιά της ανυπόταχτης δύναμης,
Όχι μόνο αυτά κι εκείνα τα μάτια,
όχι μονάχα η πένθιμη νύχτα κι οι πλανήτες της,
όχι μόνο το δάσος και το ψηλόκορμο πλήθος του,
αλλά ο πόνος, ναι ο πόνος, ο άρτος του ανθρώπου.
Γιατί όμως; Ήμουνα τότε λεπτός
σαν κλωστή και πιο σκούρος
από ψάρι νυχτερινών υδάτων, και δεν μπόρεσα,
δεν μπόρεσα πια, δεν θέλησα με ένα χτύπημα ν αλλάξω τη γη.
Μου φάνηκε ξάφνου πως δάγκωνα το πιο πικρό χορτάρι,
ότι μοιραζόμουνα μια σιωπή που λέκιαζε το έγκλημα.
Μα μες στη μοναξιά γεννιούνται και πεθαίνουν πράγματα
διογκώνεται το δίκιο, μεγαλώνει για να γίνει ντελίριο,
απλώνεται το πέταλο δίχως να φτάσει το ρόδο,
η μοναξιά είναι η ανωφελη σκόνη του κόσμου,
ο τροχός που γυρίζει δίχως χώμα, χωρίς νερό, ή άνθρωπο.
Κι έτσι κραύγαζα χαμένος
μα τι απέγινε αυτή η αχαλίνωτη κραυγή της παιδικής ηλικίας;
Ποιός τ άκουσε; Ποιό στόμα απάντησε; Τί δρόμο πήρα;
Τί απάντησαν οι τοίχοι
σαν βάρεσα απάνω τους το κεφάλι μου;
Υψώνεται και επιστρέφει η φωνή του αδύνατου μοναχικού, γυρίζει και γυρίζει η φοβερή τροχός των δυστυχιών.
Υψώθηκε κι επέστρεψε η κραυγή εκείνη, κανείς δεν το μάθε,
δεν το μαθαν ούτε οι εγκαταλελειμένοι.

Μεσημέρι κάτω από τη μουριά, εδώ στις ρίζες.

[Alina · Rating 4 out of 5]

Libros sagrados y sobados, libros
devorados, devoradores.
secretos,
en las faltriqueras:…

Βιβλία ιερά και σκισμένα, βιβλία
που καταβροχθίσουν και καταβροχθίζονται,
μυστικά,
στις τσέπες χωμένα:…

(from the poem Los libros)

This poetic autobiography of over 100 poems by Neruda has been a companion to me over the past year and a half, read slowly, a few poems at a time. The more I read, the more I found myself drawn in, and the more I came to appreciate Neruda’s poetic genius. The poems span a wide range of topics and themes, including: Neruda’s loves; poetry itself (discovering it - “Y fue a esa edad… llegó la poesía / a buscarme”; creating it; living with it); war and social struggle; growing up and the formation of the self (or selves); humanity; the sea (a central presence throughout the collection, just as it was throughout Neruda’s life - “Necesito del mar porque me enseña”).

Cuando salí a los mares fui infinito.
Era más joven yo que el mundo entero.
Y en la costa salía a recibirme
el extenso sabor del universo.

Όταν εβγήκα στις θάλασσες, έγινα απέραντος.
Ήμουν νεότερος απ’ όλον τον κόσμο.
Και στον γιαλό κατέβηκε να με υποδεχθεί
η αχανής του σύμπαντος γεύση.

(from the poem Primeros viajes)

What made my experience of reading this collection even more precious—beyond the intrinsic power of the poems as they move alongside Neruda’s life—was how certain stanzas unexpectedly summoned memories of other books I have read and loved in recent years. To name just a few, the final stanzas of El Opio en el Este brought to mind the ending of Clarice Lispector’s The Hour of the Star; Neruda’s animation of the night in La noche recalled the way darkness comes alive in Haruki Murakami’s After Dark; and several poems—especially in the first part of the collection, particularly those in which water plays a prominent role (Los Pacheco, El lago de los cisnes, Primeros viajes, among others)—also reminded me of what I loved about Andreas Embirikos’ surrealist poetry in Ενδοχώρα.

De tanto amar y andar salen los libros. …
Por eso pude caminar cantando.

Μέσ’ από πλήθος έρωτες
και μέσ’ από τόσες και τόσες
περιπλανήσεις
πλάθονται, γεννιούνται τα βιβλία. …
Γι’ αυτό μπορώ και τραγουδώ παντού
και τραγουδώντας γυρνάω τον κόσμο.

(from the poem Arte magnética)

***
PS. I was gifted and read the Greek-language edition of the collection (Δελτία από τη Μαυρόνησο). I do not generally like reading poetry in translation if I have the choice—I tend to agree with those proclaiming that poetry is innately untranslatable: something essential is always lost (something much more vital than what is usually lost in the translation of prose). Translation is art, and that is nowhere more prominent than in the translation of poetry—but the resulting poem is a 'new', transubstantiated in a sense, poem. This is why I prefer bilingual editions, even when I do not (sufficiently) speak the language of the original. The Greek-language edition of the collection is not bilingual unfortunately, and while my 'poetic' Spanish is not strong enough to enjoy the entire collection in the original without regularly consulting a dictionary, I found myself looking up and reading online the original versions of the poems I liked most as I read through the book. This deepened the experience, despite the added effort. That said, the Greek translation by Γιώργος Κεντρωτής did not disappoint; the translator opted for more elaborate phrasing at times, often sacrificing literal correspondence in favour of poetic impact (an approach I strongly prefer to strict exactitude when it comes to poetry). There is also an English–Spanish bilingual version of the collection available: Isla Negra: A Notebook.

[Janet · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the most heady, romantic collection of poems, with a deep duende shadow, dark and stormy as the sea pounding the rocks off Isla Negra, the most passionate thing between bookcovers. I especially love the poems in which Neruda describes his early loves. And best of all--it's bilingual. I speak no spanish, but I want to SEE the words, I want to hear the rhymes even if I have no idea what the words mean. The best of all is to lie in bed and have your lover read them to you out loud. Like a tarry garnet wine.

[Edita · Rating 5 out of 5]

I know this at great cost,
that all life is not outward
nor all death within,
and that the age writes letters
with water and stone for no one,
so that no one knows,
so that no one understands anything.

[Kristiana · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5. I enjoyed the first part but the last two parts felt very repetitive. I appreciate this could be due to reading Neruda’s poetry in translation; potentially a lot of nuance is lost when not read in Spanish.

[Debbie Robson · Rating 3 out of 5]

After reading two other collections of poetry by Neruda and absolutely loving them, I am afraid to say I’m left wondering about Isla Negra. To be frank it is just so disappointing. One after the other, poems just focus on stone water and sea and it is as if by constantly repeating these three words, it will all be enough to express what Neruda is trying to say about the place he loves.
The poems in this White Pine Press edition are taken from three collections: The House in the Sand, The Stones of Chile and Seaquake. The main offender seems to be the middle collection. For me, when I became overwhelmed by the use of the word stone, in particular it seemed to cancel out everything else.
When I finally finished this small book I found a few poems in the last collection that I enjoyed. Here is one of them:

“When the stars in the sky
ignore the firmament
and go off to sleep by day,
the stars of the water greet
the sky buried in the sea
inaugurating the duties
of the new undersea heavens.

I hesitate to award 2 and a half stars but simply can’t give it three, although I will have to on GR’s rating system. Other readers may feel differently.

[Vicki Frost · Rating 4 out of 5]

I know he’s an amazing poet, but I found this collection a bit tedious. So many poems on rocks can get a bit old. I did, however, get a real sense for the coast of Chile and his love for it and the sea. He was gifted in using words to draw pictures and convey visions.

[Victoria & David Williams]

Different translations; not bilingual; edited.
This is good but I prefer the FSG.

[Janessa · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is a beautiful evocation of Chile's elemental landscapes. Oceanic, seismic, cruel, tender...he charts all of the moods of the land itself. It is a truly elemental book. Neruda gets outside of himself and into the essence of what he explores. The essence of stone, of sand, of wave, of bird and ox. He realizes that the sea is both tender and cruel, it does not notice the lives it claims, whether of sailor or fisherman. Mother Nature is ash and volcanoe, earthquake and desert. These are things that only a poet of Chile could realize because Chile is all of these things, it is a land of extremes. But it is also a land of beauty that calls to the traveler like a siren to destruction, but the traveler willingly submits to this call. To be devoured by the elements is a noble death. To be turned to the stone itself, the stone (Neruda often speaks of stone as building itself into chapels without gods or monuments to silence and effigies of the lost)...There are also a few poems in the beginning of this collection which bring to life for the reader Neruda's house on the pacific coast of Chile where he wrote these verses. He describes the engravings on the rafters of the names of his friends. He says they were his light but then they became an anthology of his sorrow. I am not sure if he lost them during the chaotic and violent period of Chilean history in which Neruda himself died but it appears that way. I definitely enjoyed this collection immensely. But I always tend to enjoy collections by Neruda.

[David Morillo Barrera · Rating 3 out of 5]

Reconozco el talento que tenía Pablo Neruda, en escribir poemas de una manera hermosa y limpia. Mi problema principal con este libro, es que pretende ser una autobiografía contada través de poemas, Y en cierto punto pierde la coherencia al menos varios de ellos y se ven muy abstractos. De todas maneras me parece un libro muy hermoso y digno de leer.

[liz · Rating 5 out of 5]

Otro que saqué de la biblioteca y me encantó. De Neruda ya había leído 20 poemas de amor y etc. y no me había terminado de convencer, lo sentí bastante sobrevalorado, así que no estaba segura de con qué me iba a encontrar acá. Pero me gustó cada palabra que usó Neruda en este poemario. Lo disfruté muchísimo y me llevo varios poemas favoritos. Un placer esta lectura.

[Guillermo Jiménez · Rating 5 out of 5]

Volver siempre a Neruda, a su canto de pasiones viscerales, a su erotismo de raíces profundas, a su poesía política, a sus versos sobre el mar, la cordillera, la guerra, la soledad, el tiempo y su forma de entender el comunismo

[Rohan · Rating 2 out of 5]

2 stars for the 2 poems I actually enjoyed.

[Kate · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is my first time reading it in 12 years (originally I read it for an AP English summer reading assignment before senior year of high school). I’ve been trying to expand my genres into poetry and after wanting to slam my face into the wall after reading Rupi Kaur, etc., I wanted something that I vaguely remember actually being good.

This collection did not make me want to slam anything into a wall.

I appreciate this collection. I appreciate Neruda’s talent as a poet. I appreciate that he doesn’t just put three words on a line and call it poetry, or take a glorified tweet and call it a poem. I really appreciate that his poems clearly took thought and that he wasn’t trying to be profound in hopes that people would caption their Instagram photos with quotes from his work. I appreciate the organization of this collection, because it helps the reader follow the journey in a logical manner. Some poems were especially pretty. I appreciate the hell out of him as a poet of color. I also think this translation is quite good (I don’t speak Spanish so I can’t verify, but I like that this edition has every poem in both languages side by side, and the English poems read well).

But I didn’t love it. But to be fair, the only poetry collections I really legit love are from Mary Oliver (brilliant, speaks to who I am), and Shel Silverstein (sorry not sorry. Will always be my favorite).

To be honest, though, I don’t really “get” a lot of this. I found my AP summer reading journal from when I read this before and man, was I full of shit back then. Or maybe I’m just dumber now, but I was rambling on about figurative language and deep, meaningful development. I didn’t really get that this time through, but I don’t doubt it’s there. I probably didn’t do it justice speed reading through 15 pages each night before bed.

All in all, there are some great poems in here, and it’s 1000x better than most of the total crap out there that people are reading right now. (Except Mary Oliver.)

[Francisco Barrios · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uno de los libros más personales de Pablo Neruda, que ahonda en las líneas poéticas trazadas con los monumentales "Canto general" y "Odas elementales", cayendo varias veces en el poema autobiográfico, digresivo, que solo se logra después de una sosegada introspección.

En esta obra asistimos a un recuento (necesariamente incompleto) de los amores de Pablo (hasta Matilde Urrutia), a su paso por el mundo de la política y al desengaño de la figura de Stalin, a la estancia en España durante la Guerra Civil, a su itinerario incansable alrededor del mundo como exiliado.

A lo largo de 300 páginas y 5 grandes secciones, Neruda lleva su concepción de la oda compuesta por estrofas de frases largas segmentadas en imágenes poéticas deslumbrantes, a algunos de sus mejores ejemplos: "El sexo", "La injusticia", "Aquella luz", "Cordilleras de Chile", y "Cita de invierno", por mencionar solo algunos, acomodando un lenguaje rico en referencias geográficas y naturales a los más insospechados temas.

E una palabra este libro es deslumbrante.

[Chiara Canu · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una delle raccolte più grandi della poetica di Neruda, dai temi fortemente autobiografici, spiritualistici e introspettivi. Colpisce come ognuno possa raccontare con parole proprie stesse tematiche della vita, ed in questo compito Neurda non è da meno: il suo accento risulta innovativo, accessibile e per certi versi asciutto, ridefinendo a suo modo il senso della patria, dell'amore, dei luoghi che hanno connotato le sue radici e di tutto ciò che i suoi occhi hanno scorto del mondo. Lo lessi tantissimi anni fa, quando la poesia era qualcosa di ancora tanto lontano dalle mie visioni, nel cerchio di un interesse fin troppo adolescenziale, dunque acerbo. Ma ne ricordo in modo assoluto l'esattezza e la semplicità di un linguaggio in versi, privo di rime, a tratti discorsivo e di una fluidità coinvolgente. Il primo poeta, forse, ad essere sottolineato dalle mie mani, ad essere impresso nell'interno di pagine bianche per ricordarmi quante parole è possibile usare per poter narrare la stessa cosa.

[Aubin Boudoussier · Rating 4 out of 5]

Je ne voulus pas parler : il ne fallait pas qu'on reconnut ma voix, je ne voulus pas voir pour ne pas être vu
(la timidité)


J'arrivais a des femmes qui en moi se chercherent
Comme si je les avais égarées

-- L'enfant perdu

La faim n'était plus seulement la faim
mais bien la mesure de l'homme
Le froid, le vent étaient aussi mesures ,
L'homme debout eu cent fois faim il tomba
A l'âge de cent froids on enterra Pedro
(L'injustice)

Mais la vie lui servit seulement à mourir

--Ces vies la

Si beauté il y eut ce fut d'apprendre
a ne tarir ni la tristesse ni la joie,
à attendre un peut-être d'une dernière goutte
et à demander plus au miel et aux ténèbres
(Plein octobre)

--il n'y a de pure lumière

C'est cela mourir :
S'en aller lorsque tout reste :
(Adieu à la neige)

L'amour mort n'est pas la mort
Mais une amere façon de naître
(Amour : delia 2)

--la solitude

--le long jeudi

--les assiettes sur la table = > vegan

[Lupe · Rating 1 out of 5]

Creo que si goodreads me dejara le pondría media estrella o un cuarto de estrella. No me gustó para nada, y yo amo la poesía en todas sus formas, pero esto no fue para nada lo indicado para mí. (Quizás por eso no leo tantos hombres 😂😂)

300 páginas de sufrimiento y lectura costosa que me tomó todo el mes, pero bueno, se llegó al final.

Este autor chileno me llamó la atención por ser uno de los más reconocidos de Latinoamérica pero también por ser poesía. Durante este mes tenía el reto de leer un autor/a latino/a y no me salió bien la jugada, no me gustó para nada. Próximo mes se intentará de nuevo.

[Paulo Maua · Rating 5 out of 5]

Para quem visita Isla Negra (meu caso), a sensação é de que cada verso do livro está esparramado pelas paredes, e tetos, e janelas, e coleções do casarão à beira-mar. O livro é uma homenagem ao vilarejo de El Quisco, um povoado de pescadores entre Santiago e Valparaíso, à beira do Oceano Pacífico, onde Pablo Neruda viveu com a esposa Matilde Urrutia (La Chascona) até a sua morte, em 1973. As memórias em forma de versos se referem ao mar e ao amor, elementos essenciais do autor. Vale a pena a leitura e a visita ao local.

[Robert Teeter · Rating 4 out of 5]

This collection, named after Neruda's seaside home, was a kind of 60th birthday present to himself. Though translator Alastair Reid tells us the Spanish word "memorial" means something more like "notebook," there is a strong element of memory in these poems. Neruda recalls his childhood, women he loved, periods of political activism and resultant exile, and growing older. Some of the poems in this collection are not among his best, but overall it's worth reading for any Neruda fan.

[Clara Martinez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Quiero volver a ser lo que no he sido,
aprender a volver desde tan hondo
que entre todas las cosas naturales
pueda vivir o no vivir: no importa
ser una piedra más, la piedra oscura,
la piedra pura que se lleva en río.

___
Los poemas son de una profundidad terrible y eso me ha hecho subrayar muchísimo el libro. Es un libro para disfrutarlo en pequeñas cantidades. Tal vez lo que más me ha gustado ha sido su manera de describir de manera tan poética su sentimiento de tierra y patria.

[Diego Sanchez · Rating 4 out of 5]

PÁG 37. El niño perdido
PÁG 43. Los abandonados
PÁG 108/9. No hay pura luz -De lo que fui no tengo sino estas marcas crueles, porque aquellos dolores confirman mi existencia
PÁG 166. Exilio - Eres como un fantasma avergonzado de no amar más a los que tanto te ama
PÁG 216. Para la envidia
PÁG 226. La noche
PÁG 279. Amores: Matilde
PÁG 284. La dulce patria
PÁG 285. El amor
PÁG 286. El canto

[Pedro · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a beautiful set of poems. Neruda bequeathes to us the natural world in textual form. Take me to Isla Negra, where I can drink a glass, ponder Neruda, and soak up the environment with a sunset or two.

[Bristol · Rating 4 out of 5]

I will read this again at some point, because I don't think that a reader could possibly grasp all of the emotion and depth Neruda includes in this work on just one read. Truly the most descriptive and feeling poetry I have read in a long time, and I will continue to read his other work.

[Chris Gaither · Rating 4 out of 5]

A gorgeous compilation of Neruda poems about the sea. I did something unusual for me: I read nearly every word of this book aloud so I could revel in the imagery and the lyricism.

[neen · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Perhaps this is the house I lived in when neither I nor earth existed,
when all was moon or stone or darkness,
when still light was unborn”

“Here, being and not being were combined”

[Cathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Neruda’s birthday gift to himself. Especially interesting to read the side-by-side Spanish and English.

[Fay · Rating 3 out of 5]

me: maybe this time it’ll be different
also me: WAS NOT DIFFERENT. STILL UNLIKED IT.