Crepusculario

by Pablo Neruda

In Book of Twilight we meet a poet on the verge: Pablo Neruda--young, impassioned, vulnerable--poised to become one of the most beloved writers of our time. The precocious poet, then a teenager named Neftal� Ricardo Reyes Basoalto, reportedly sold his father's pocket watch to print the first copies of his debut book of poetry, one year before Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair placed Neruda on the world's stage. In Book of Twilight the voice is recognizable, even in nascent form--wildly romantic, musical, and bold--yet these poems are distinctly and charmingly adolescent, fluctuating between formality and rebellion. Book of Twilight offers a rare window into the early workings of a great mind; readers are privy to a profound transformation: the poet's becoming. Book of Twilight, originally titled Crepusculario, has never before been published in English in its entirety--the unveiling of this collection accompanies the thrilling discovery that became 2016's Then Come Back: The Lost Neruda Poems. In William O'Daly's lyrical translation, Pablo Neruda's first book is a treasure restored to its rightful place in a grand legacy. Within this early work is an important, raw power--the trembling effort that heralds genius.

Genres: Poetry, Spanish Literature

112 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1923

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

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

I have often said the world needs more Neruda.

The Chilean poet has been dead since 1973 and every book that I read of his, I lament my sad refrain. Why you might ask? Simply put, his observation about the world. Simple, honest, words magnified by his powerful poetic manner. His is a world of seeing the world around him. The good, the bad, erotic love and love gone bad, growing old and being young and everything in between.

Simple.

So let’s start yesterday when I received my brand new copy Of “The Book Of Twilight” published by Copper Canyon Press and translated by William O’Daly (his translations in brackets). This is the first complete translation into English with the original Spanish on the facing pages. Beautiful.

Inicial (Beginning)

He ido bajo Helios, que me mira sangrante
laborando en silencia mis jardines ausentes

(Emerging under Helios, who see me bleed,
I labor silently in my absent gardens)

Not bad for an early twenty something who published these words in 1923. He pawned his father’s watch and his few items of furniture to publish his first book of poems, called Crepusculario.

Divided into six sections, these early poems focus mainly on love and relationships but at times gravitate to loftier reflections:

Mi alma es un carrousel vacío en el crepúsculo
(My soul is an empty merry-go-round in the twilight)

Playing with alliterations and puns:

Quiero saltar al agua para caer al cielo
(I want to leap into the water to fall on the sky)

Or reflections on humanity and canines:

Perro mío,
si Dios está en mi verso,
Dios soy yo.
si Dios esta en tu ojos doloridos,
tú eres Dios.

Y en este mundo inmenso nadie existe
que se arrodille ante nosotros dos!

(Dog of mine,
if God is in my verse,
God is me.
If God is in your sorrowful eyes,
you are God.

And in this immense world no one exists
who will kneel before us.

Or my favourite poem, Saudade. This is a Portuguese term that expresses a longing for something lost or a absent, a deep melancholy or a lost love. Referencing the Portuguese writer Eça de Queirós:

...sin mirar la advino,
su secreto se evade, se dulzura me obsede
Como una mariposa de cuerpo extraño y fino
siempre lejos -tan lejos! - de mis tranquilas redes

(...without seeing it, they discern it,
her secret eludes, her sweetness obsesses me
like a butterfly of strange and delicate body
always far - so far! - from my calm nets)

The longest poem book is divided into several shorter poems about the love story of Pelleas and Melisandra, based on a play by Maurice Maeterlinck, and later made into an opera by Claude Debussy. The star crossed lovers whose lives fare badly would be par for the other lost loves within this book.

Finally the last section. Our young man makes his mark with all his passion:

Final (End)

Fueron creadas por mí estas palabras
con sangre mía, con dolores míos
Fueron creadas!

(These words were created by me
With blood of mine, with pains of mine
They were created.)

So there you have it. The earliest work of Neruda is juvenile at times and yet one can sense the strength and courage of the poet growing. A very apt title for his first book, crepusculario or twilight. There was definitely something worthwhile starting here.

Any Neruda fan will enjoy this book but even the non fan would warm to his words. A very beautiful translation by William O’Daly and a very beautiful book by Copper Canyon Press.

Definitely a 4, maybe a 4.5

[Edita · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was yours, you were mine. What more? Together we took
a bend in the road where the love happened.
*
when I pass through the fields, with my soul in the wind,
my veins carry on with the rumor of the rivers.
*

The chewing jaws of the sea bite
the open pulp of the coast
where the green water crashes
against the silent earth.

Standing sky and distance.
The horizon like an arm,
surrounds the lit-up fruit
of the sun falling into the dusk.

Facing the fury of the sea
all dreams are futile.
Why relate the song
of a heart that’s so small?


Nevertheless, the sky is so vast
and time, nonetheless, rolls on.
To lie down and let oneself be carried
by this blue and bitter wind!…

Shelled wind of the sea,
go on kissing my face.
Drag me, wind of the sea,
where no one would wait for me!
*

It is dawn, and it seems
that my inquietudes won't tighten
in such terrible knots around my throat.
And nevertheless,
they were created,
with my blood, with my pains,
these words were created by me!
[...]
The words came, and my heart,
uncontainable as a dawn,
cracked in the words and attached to their flight,
and in their heroic escape they carry it and they drag it,
abandoned and crazy, and forgotten below them
like a dead bird, under their wings.

[Bianca · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pablo Neruda is a Chilean poet that won the Nobel Prize for his creations; his background is nothing short of interesting and in my eyes he will forever be a deep and romantic poet. I admit that I got the book both because of this fact as well as because the Spanish original poems were mirrored by the English translations in a very sturdy short-length book that was pleasant to the touch, with a quality paper print that showed care.
Some of the poems I enjoyed VERY much, but others I didn't and they seemed like just more of the same as well as unrelatable. It made me wish my Spanish had been better so I could have read it fluently, without having to check the translation for some words thus shattering the continuity. However the translator did make several contextual mistakes that were quite obvious in some translations. If you are natively or bilingually Spanish and more romantic at heart you might enjoy it much more than I did.

[Jaksone Wallbank · Rating 5 out of 5]

I never quite know what a person's position on poetry would be before writing a review on an entire book of poetry, but if you're looking for somewhere to start then this should be it.

That is entirely dependent upon whether you like shorter poetry. I know that there are those people in the world who love extensive epic poetry the likes of Beowulf, etc. Neruda manages to do that without getting bogged down in this burning need to be epic, he sort of just is.

Neruda is epic in his very personable nature. He writes in a way that despite the original language being Spanish, the reader can still feel the passion that Neruda has for the normal things of life. I wouldn't say the mundane things, because that implies boring and Neruda is anything but boring.

For me this is another mind expanding type book, and I just adore Neruda's style. Not only that, but when reading you can tell that the translator has made a life out of this poetry. I know that sounds sort of bizarre, but you can feel that the translator has somehow managed to hide something of himself in the poetry.

Perhaps that's just the nature of the poetry. If it is then it completely justifies the five stars I give it, because I believe that if poetry isn't at least attempting to exert some influence or change within the reader's thinking then the poem may not be doing it's job correctly, or perhaps the reader hasn't yet been made ready to receive the poem's meaning. Who knows? If I'm not careful I'll continue to wax lyrical on the philosophy of poetry forever. I wouldn't consider that a bad thing for me, but for anyone who reads this review? Well...

[Wendy · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 estrellas...
#37 El primer libro de un autor popular.

Me gustaron algunos poemas, otros no los entendí...

Me quedo con algunas frases, pero mi favorita sin duda será esta:

¨Nada me has dado y todo te lo debo¨.

Una buena lectura para entrar al mundo de la poesía. Estoy leyendo ¨20 poemas de amor y una canción desesperada¨... me va gustando más. ♥

[Kate · Rating 5 out of 5]

I started and stopped between the evenings. In contrast to Neruda's sailors though I made a promise and returned. Not to get lovey-dovey there, but it's an interesting collection of Neruda's early, first collected poems. He experiments between honest, simple, grounded terms to then striving for loftier, Romanticist ideals in his poetry here. While he deals with sentimental goodbyes and tragic lovers in his later part of the book, I prefer his beginnings with the Helios chapter. His "Sense of Smell" hits a nostalgia in me, much like it does for him in this memory poem. There is something about lilacs and childhood for me that hits home. This is a start for anyone interested in poetry to see how Neruda started and honed his writing skills further into his career down the road.

[Mora · Rating 3 out of 5]

*inserte el meme de joder esto si es literatura 🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬🚬*
me gusto mucho y me dan ganas de leer más cosas de él, ampliaremos
3.5⭐

[Erik · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cuando voy por los campos, con el alma en el viento,
mis venas continúan el rumor de los ríos...

(...¿de dónde sacaste para encender el cielo
este maravilloso crepúsculo de cobre?
Por él supe llenarme de alegría de nuevo
y la palabra dura supe tornarla noble.
...deja en mi corazón tu lámpara encendida
y yo seré el aceite de su lumbre suprema.
Y me iré por los campos en la noche estrellada,
con los brazos abiertos y la frente desnuda,
cantando aires ingenuos con las mismas palabras
que en la noche se dicen los campos y la luna


Mujer, yo hubiera sido tu hijo, por beberte
la leche de los senos como de un manantial,
por mirarte y sentirte a mi lado y tenerte
en la risa de oro y la voz de cristal.
(… Cómo sabría amarte, mujer como sabría
amarte, amarte como nadie supo jamás.
Morir y todavía amarte más.
Y todavía
amarre más
y más.

Lleno de fuerza juvenil, sorprende por su madurez. En un tono lacónico expresa una clara exaltación vital y sobre todo un gran sentimiento panteísta, la naturaleza, el mar….

[Nataly Tiare · Rating 4 out of 5]

Primera obra publicada del poeta.

No es de extrañar que Neruda haya llegado tan lejos viendo un inicio como éste. He leído "Farewell" miles de veces en mi vida y me sigue pareciendo extraordinario. Y es sólo un ejemplo de las tantas maravillas que están escritas en este libro.

[Majo · Rating 3 out of 5]

No soy muy entendida en estos temas y estoy segura que no entendía la mayoría de estos poemas, pero me hubo algunos que me gustaron bastante.

Mis favoritos fueron los poemas que relatan la historia de amor de Pelleas y Melisanda.
En un beso sabrás todo lo que he callado.

[Fernanda Otero · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Ya no se encantarán mis ojos en tus ojos,
ya no se endulzará junto a ti mi dolor.
Pero hacia donde vaya llevaré tu mirada
y hacia donde camines llevarás mi dolor.
Fui tuyo, fuiste mía. Qué más? Juntos hicimos
un recodo en la ruta donde el amor pasó.
Fui tuyo, fuiste mía. Tú serás del que te ame,
del que corte en tu huerto lo que he sembrado yo.
Yo me voy. Estoy triste: pero siempre estoy triste.
Vengo desde tus brazos. No sé hacia dónde voy.
… Desde tu corazón me dice adiós un niño.
Y yo le digo adiós.”


No es mi poemario favorito de Neruda pero siempre llena mi alma con sus palabras 🤍

[Nicolás · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bello bello, me sorprendió tanta gratitud a lo largo del libro, con la gente, el campo, el mar, y la poesía. La postura de humildad con el lenguaje lo enaltece todo.

[Rotten Flesh · Rating 4 out of 5]

No puedo poner palabras a lo mucho que me llena el alma leer la poesía de este señor, se a vuelto de mis poetas favoritos.

[Daniel Cabarcas · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gran poemario con grandes poemas y otros intrascendentes.

No se puede negar el talento de Neruda (además del Neruda jovén) para convertir las palabras en un recuerdo muy intenso y emocional que, sin embargo, nadie puede encontrar en su memoria.

La nostalgia y la melancolía se expresan a la perfección en un poemario que, sin embargo, carece de linealidad salvo por el último capítulo, y muchas veces de certezas para el lector, dado que te lanza al vacío de la imaginación y suele quedarse en él, sin saber, al terminar un poema, de qué trató o qué ocurrió.

Es un muy buen texto, realmente muy recomendable.

[gaio · Rating 4 out of 5]

E pensar que Neruda escreveu essas poesias repletas de beleza, sentimento e introspecção entre 16 e 19 anos.

[Shel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Phenonmenally beautiful! Stunning.

[José Santos · Rating 5 out of 5]

La poesía del joven Neruda tiene una madurez que para muchos es inalcanzable en toda una vida.

[Eric Stutzman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Before I begin I can say with full honesty that up until about a month ago, I was just like every single English student; I despised poetry. I had nothing against the poetry itself, merely the fact that from elementary school onward it was jammed down our throats. We learned about almost every form of poetry you could think of from haiku's to limerick's to sonnets and rhyming poetry. But somehow school managed to avoid teaching us about the best part of poetry, and that is free verse. Free verse poetry is poetry which doesn't follow a rigid structure, such as a sonnet or a haiku does, but one that reads like a gentle breeze making its way across the page.

In the past several months, I have been immersing myself more and more in poetry, and I have come to see the true beauty within the genre, and beyond the papers and analysis. It has become an enjoyable and relaxing form of writing, and perhaps no other poet exhibits this as sublimely as Pablo Neruda. His imagery combined with the flowing rhythm of his poems made this one of the most delicate and lovely books I have ever read. His poems describing the moon or the landscape made me want to just melt into the world he painted with his words, and his poetry about love made my heart ache for someone I have never known. It takes a very skilled poet to weave words with such dexterity and nimbleness, and an even more talented writer to make it look effortless as Neruda does. This collection of poems won Pablo Neruda the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1971, which has cemented him as one of the most prized figures in the histories of both Panama and Chile. Not only was this prize extremely earned, but his poetry has made him one of my favorite authors, and easily my favorite poet. To end, I will let him describe poetry in his own words:

Poetry is white:
it comes from water swathed in drops,
it wrinkles and gathers,
this planet's skin has to spread out,
the sea's whiteness has to be ironed out,
and the hands keep moving,
the sacred surfaces get smoothed,
and things are done this way:
the hands make the world every day,
fire conjoins with steel,
linen, canvas, and cotton arrive
from the scuffles in the laundries,
and from light a dove is born:
chastity returns out of the foam.
Pablo Neruda

[James F · Rating 3 out of 5]

This year I am reading extensively in Latin American literature for a Goodreads group, and it was recommended to me by the group moderator, Betty, that I should read Pablo Neruda (not one of the group readings); he was on my TBR in any case, but rather far down, so I decided to move him up and begin reading some of his works chronologically over the next few months (mainly what I already own or what is available from Open Library -- I have the Antología General which will fill in the gaps with selections from all the collections I don't read separately).

Crepusculario is Neruda's first published collection of (forty eight) poems; probably not a fair introduction since it was published when he was nineteen and contains poems from as early as seventeen. It isn't all bad poetry -- some poems I thought were fairly good, actually -- but it is very uneven.

Even leaving aside the last section which contains poems about Pelleas and Melisanda, it is obvious that he is imitating the turn-of-the-century French symbolist writers; nearly every poem uses words like "triste", "tristeza", "dolor", "llanto", "sollozos", "angustia" and other allusions to a kind of generalized existential melancholy. This theme is of course also connected to the title; there are constant references to twilight and sunset, the sea, the moon, etc. Despite his claims that it is written with his blood, it all too often seems like a Romantic pose. Technically, it is very accomplished; many of the poems are metric and use rhyme or assonance, and unlike many modern poets who attempt older forms it almost never seems to be forced or twisted to fit the form.

[Linette · Rating 5 out of 5]

Even though with some of the poems I felt like I was losing something in the translation.
Even though with some of the poems I was missing the context because i do not speak Spanish.
Even though with some of the poems I knew I just did not understand because I am white and not from South America.
Even though...
When I did get it this was like listening to music in the rain falling on a metal roof.
When I did get it I was sailed away to sea with the dome of the sky surrounding me.
And I could see for miles.
And I could see deep down inside myself.

I did not intend to write my review like this. This is what came out after reading Neruda’s Book of Twilight.

5.

[Rebekah · Rating 3 out of 5]

“One must be kind and give oneself to everyone,
there is no other way to live

but to be sweet. Give yourself to people
as do mountain slopes to the earth.

Don’t be afraid. Don’t think.
Give to give again.

Who gives of himself never ends
because in him is the pulp of the divine.

Like the waters of the rivers give themselves
to the sea, my brother, without end!

May my song in your life gild what you desire.
May your goodwill turn into light what you see.
May your life be as such.”

—from “The Refrain is the Turk

[Fabricio Fernandez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Yo me voy. Estoy triste: pero siempre estoy triste.
...........................................................
Y aquí estoy yo, brotado entre las ruinas,
mordiendo solo todas las tristezas,
como si el llanto fuera una semilla
y yo el único surco de la tierra.
...........................................................
MI ALMA es un carrusel vacío en el crepúsculo...

[Farid · Rating 2 out of 5]

cursi pero no tanto —o sea sí pero no— para mi gusto. un poco me la baja que haya bastante, siento que más de lo que debería, de lo que después sería la tonada de VPDA pero así demasiado. como sea, si nos ponemos atorrantes o justos según quien vea, como poemario debut "los heraldo negros" le da treinta vueltas a esto y encima te recupera el huáscar. ya quisieras, pablito. ya quisieras.

[4/10]

[Astrid · Rating 5 out of 5]

Literalmente, uno de mis poetas favoritos. aunque no había leído sus libros completos, sí había leído sus poemas solos, así que este libro fue un buen comienzo para familiarizarme con el trabajo completo del señor Neruda.

[Katy-Lynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Later my eyes
forgot the tears
swept by the wind of the heart of everyone.

Tell me now, friends,
where to hide that shrill
fury of the sobs.

Friends, tell me where
to hide the silence, so no one ever
sensed it with their ears or with their eyes.” - Pablo Neruda

[Fudanshi · Rating 4 out of 5]

Se nota que es de sus primeros versos, pero aun así, tiene muchos poemas fantásticos que contienen tan bien esa síntesis del crepúsculo que promete todo el libro.

[Nelpha · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un libro para leer, releer y degustar, poemas que han atravesado décadas desde 1923 y sorprenden con su naturalidad descriptiva y atemporalidad.

[Estalin Peña · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bellas poesías

A lo largo de! Libro se evidencian demasiadas faltas ortográficas lo que desencanta su lectura. Fuera de eso maravillosas las poesías de Neruda.

[Marina · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[Marcelo Ferretti · Rating 5 out of 5]

Farewell y los Sollozos is simply B E A U T I F U L ! ! !