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Category Poets

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 52

You sing and your voice peels the husk of the day’s grain, your song with the sun and sky, the pine trees speak with their green tongue: all the birds of the winter whistle. The sea fills its cellar with…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 51

Your laugh: it reminds me of a tree fissured by a lightning streak, by a silver bolt that drops from the sky, splitting the poll, slicing the tree with its sword. A laugh like yours I love is born only…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 50

Cotapos says your laughter drops like a hawk from a stony tower. It’s true: daughter of the sky, you slit the world and its green leaves, with one bolt of your lightning: it falls, it thunders: the tongues of the…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 49

It’s today: all of yesterday dropped away among the fingers of the light and the sleeping eyes. Tomorrow will come on its green footsteps; no one can stop the river of the dawn. No one can stop the river of…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 48

Two happy lovers make one bread, a single moon drop in the grass. Walking, they cast two shadows that flow together; waking, they leave one sun empty in their bed. Of all the possible truths, they chose the day; they…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 47

I want to look back and see you in the branches.Little by little you turned into fruit.It was easy for you to rise from the roots,singing your syllable of sap. Here you will be a fragrant flower first,changed to the…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 46

Of all the stars I admired, drenched in various rivers and mists, I chose only the one I love. Since then I sleep with the night. Of all the waves, one wave and another wave, green sea, green chill, branchings…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 45

Support this archive and get a book for yourself: Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because-because-I don’t know how to say it: a day is longand I will be waiting for you, as in an empty stationwhen…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 44

You must know that I do not love and that I love you, because everything alive has its two sides; a word is one wing of the silence, fire has its cold half. I love you in order to begin…

Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 43

I hunt for a sign of you in all the others, in the rapid undulant river of women, braids, shyly sinking eyes, light step that slides, sailing through the foam. Suddenly I think I can make out your nails- oblong,…