I want to see the thirst inside the syllables I want to touch the fire in the sound: I want to feel… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses. I want to do with you… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
If you no longer live, if you my beloved, my love, if you have died, all the leaves will fall in my… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Take it all back. Life is boring, except for flowers, sunshine, your perfect legs. A glass of cold water when you are… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping but I shall go on living. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I don't want to go on being a root in the dark, vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep, downward, in the soaked… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I want to see thirst In the syllables, Tough fire In the sound; Feel through the dark For the scream. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. I want to eat the sunbeams flaring… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
You came to my life with what you were bringing, made of light and bread and shadow I expected you, and Like… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
You can say anything you want, yessir, but it's the words that sing, they soar and descend...I bow to them...I love them,… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body... and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you,… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Of everything I have seen, it's you I want to go on seeing: of everything I've touched, it's your flesh I want… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
And I watch my words from a long way off. They are more yours than mine. They climb on my old suffering… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
For me writing is like breathing. I could not live without breathing and I could not live without writing. — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Our love was born outside the walls, in the wind, in the night, in the earth, and that's why the clay and the flower,… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I remember only a day that was perhaps never intended for me, it was an incessant day, without origins, Thursday. I was a man… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“We had, as men, time So our thirst could slowly be satisfied, the ancestral longing to enumerate things and sum them up, to render… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
I don't know who it is who lives or dies, who rests or wakes, but it is your heart that distributes all the graces… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Body of a woman, white hills, white thighs, you look like a world, lying in surrender. My rough peasant's body digs in you and… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
We open the halves of a miracle, and a clotting of acids brims into the starry divisions: creation's original juices, irreducible, changeless, alive: so… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“Take bread away from me, if you wish, take air away, but do not take from me your laughter. Do not take away the… — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
Perhaps the earth can teach us As when everything seems dead And later proves to be alive — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
“I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.” — Pablo Neruda Copy Share Image
