Pablo Neruda

Monday, October 16th, 2017, 11:09:35 PM

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, "The night is shattered

and the blue stars shiver in the distance."

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.

And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.

The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.

My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.

We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.

My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.

Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms

my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer

and these the last verses that I write for her.

  • Pablo Neruda
  • “Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines.”
Wednesday, October 18th, 2017, 2:11:39 AM

That's beautiful, and equally so in Spanish... "Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche"

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 2:29:33 AM

Funnily, I've put Pablo Neruda easter eggs in GS stuff before, though it's been a long while. Easily one of my favorite poets; always so evocative and makes everything, no matter the topic, sound beautiful in the telling of it.

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 2:35:02 AM

Beautiful and soulful, and he suffered so much in love :( Isn't that always the case though?

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 3:05:29 AM

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride: I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love, except in this form in which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

A classic.

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 10:04:51 AM

@Sabotage that's so sweet, I love you too!! wait a minute...

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 10:09:44 AM

@necios alt text

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 10:14:18 AM

@sabotage Me gustas cuando callas, porque estás como austente. I like it when you close your mouth, because it's like you're not even there.

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 10:28:27 AM

@necios alt text

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 11:43:26 AM

I still can't get gifs to work. I give up. You win.

Thursday, October 19th, 2017, 12:57:04 PM

You've asked me what the lobster is weaving there with his golden feet? I reply, the ocean knows this. You say, what is the ascidia waiting for in its transparent bell? What is it waiting for? I tell you it is waiting for time, like you. You ask me whom the Macrocystis alga hugs in its arms? Study, study it, at a certain hour, in a certain sea I know. You question me about the wicked tusk of the narwhal, and I reply by describing how the sea unicorn with the harpoon in it dies. You enquire about the kingfisher's feathers, which tremble in the pure springs of the southern tides? Or you've found in the cards a new question touching on the crystal architecture of the sea anemone, and you'll deal that to me now? You want to understand the electric nature of the ocean spines? The armored stalactite that breaks as it walks? The hook of the angler fish, the music stretched out in the deep places like a thread in the water?

I want to tell you the ocean knows this, that life in its jewel boxes is endless as the sand, impossible to count, pure, and among the blood-colored grapes time has made the petal hard and shiny, made the jellyfish full of light and untied its knot, letting its musical threads fall from a horn of plenty made of infinite mother-of-pearl.

I am nothing but the empty net which has gone on ahead of human eyes, dead in those darknesses, of fingers accustomed to the triangle, longitudes on the timid globe of an orange.

I walked around as you do, investigating the endless star, and in my net, during the night, I woke up naked, the only thing caught, a fish trapped inside the wind.

  • Pablo Neruda
  • Enigmas