Pablo Neruda

(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973 / Parral)

Comments about Pablo Neruda

  • Sanili Saha (9/16/2016 11:36:00 AM)

    I can read and re-read to feel the resonance in his lines.....

    0 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Uddhab Naik Uddhab Naik (8/19/2016 9:54:00 AM)

    Outstanding piece of poetry...

  • Dddd Ssss (7/11/2016 8:25:00 AM)

    it is realy good poem

  • Otteri Selvakumar Otteri Selvakumar (6/26/2016 1:20:00 PM)

    Wonderful poet writing wonder poems

  • Soul Watcher Soul Watcher (6/23/2016 2:34:00 AM)

    Pablo Neruda was the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean poet and politician Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. He chose his pen name after Czech poet Jan Neruda.

  • Soul Watcher Soul Watcher (6/22/2016 10:48:00 AM)

    I like this poet, never get bored of reading his poems

  • Md. Anisur Rahman Md. Anisur Rahman (5/5/2016 1:56:00 AM)

    Pablo Neruda is a great poet in the world.

  • Shashikant Nishant Sharma Shashikant Nishant Sharma (4/15/2016 10:18:00 PM)

    This is really an inspiring poem. I really appreciate it. Good work. Short and witty. Thanks for sharing.

  • Poop Guy (3/29/2016 1:44:00 PM)

    It stinks, this poem stinks, it does not make sense, smells bad

  • Frankly Marj (3/8/2016 1:01:00 PM)

    Even better, give us the poem in its original language as well.

Best Poem of Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,...

Read the full of If You Forget Me

In My Sky At Twilight

In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud
and your form and colour are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

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