Pablo Neruda

(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973 / Parral)

Pablo Neruda Poems

81. Poor Fellows 1/3/2003
82. Sonata 1/3/2003
83. The Dictators 1/13/2003
84. Death Alone 3/22/2010
85. Water 1/3/2003
86. Sonnet Viii 1/3/2003
87. The Song Of Despair 1/3/2003
88. Ode To The Book 1/3/2003
89. I Remember You As You Were 3/22/2010
90. Magellanic Penguin 1/13/2003
91. Here I Love You 3/22/2010
92. Ode To Salt 1/20/2003
93. Ode To A Large Tuna In The Market 1/20/2003
94. It’s Good To Feel You Are Close To Me 3/22/2010
95. Ode To Wine 1/3/2003
96. Sonnet Xxxiv (You Are The Daughter Of The Sea) 1/13/2003
97. ‘in The Wave-Strike Over Unquiet Stones’ 3/22/2010
98. Lost In The Forest... 1/3/2003
99. I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair 5/5/2011
100. Sonnet Xi 1/3/2003
101. The Dead Woman 1/10/2005
102. Puedo Escribir 1/13/2003
103. Brown And Agile Child 1/3/2003
104. Ode To Sadness 1/3/2003
105. The Question 1/3/2003
106. From The Book Of Questions 1/20/2003
107. Fleas Interest Me So Much 1/3/2003
108. We Are Many 1/3/2003
109. Absence 3/22/2010
110. The Light Wraps You 1/13/2003
111. Cat's Dream 1/13/2003
112. Sonnet Xxv 4/5/2003
113. Walking Around 1/13/2003
114. Leaning Into The Afternoons 1/3/2003
115. Sonnet Lxxxi 1/3/2003
116. ‘carnal Apple, Woman Filled, Burning Moon,’ 3/22/2010
117. Nothing But Death 1/13/2003
118. ‘perhaps Not To Be Is To Be Without Your Being.’ 3/22/2010
119. Love 1/13/2003
120. Gentleman Alone 1/13/2003
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

We Are Many

Of the many men whom I am, whom we are,
I cannot settle on a single one.
They are lost to me under the cover of clothing
They have departed for another city.

When everything seems to be set
to show me off as a man of intelligence,
the fool I keep concealed on my person
takes over my talk and occupies my mouth.

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