Pablo Neruda

(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973 / Parral)

Pablo Neruda Poems

81. The Song Of Despair 1/3/2003
82. Some Beasts 1/3/2003
83. The Dictators 1/13/2003
84. Sonnet Viii 1/3/2003
85. The White Mans Burden 1/13/2003
86. Death Alone 3/22/2010
87. I Remember You As You Were 3/22/2010
88. Ode To A Large Tuna In The Market 1/20/2003
89. Water 1/3/2003
90. Sonnet Xxxiv (You Are The Daughter Of The Sea) 1/13/2003
91. Ode To Wine 1/3/2003
92. Ode To Salt 1/20/2003
93. It’s Good To Feel You Are Close To Me 3/22/2010
94. ‘in The Wave-Strike Over Unquiet Stones’ 3/22/2010
95. Here I Love You 3/22/2010
96. Love Sonnet XVII 3/29/2010
97. The Dead Woman 1/10/2005
98. Sonnet Xi 1/3/2003
99. Ode To The Book 1/3/2003
100. Lost In The Forest... 1/3/2003
101. Puedo Escribir 1/13/2003
102. Ode To Sadness 1/3/2003
103. I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair 5/5/2011
104. Brown And Agile Child 1/3/2003
105. The Light Wraps You 1/13/2003
106. We Are Many 1/3/2003
107. Leaning Into The Afternoons 1/3/2003
108. The Question 1/3/2003
109. Sonnet Lxxxi 1/3/2003
110. Walking Around 1/13/2003
111. Sonnet Xxv 4/5/2003
112. From The Book Of Questions 1/20/2003
113. Cat's Dream 1/13/2003
114. ‘perhaps Not To Be Is To Be Without Your Being.’ 3/22/2010
115. Nothing But Death 1/13/2003
116. Gentleman Alone 1/13/2003
117. Love 1/13/2003
118. Fleas Interest Me So Much 1/3/2003
119. Absence 3/22/2010
120. Always 3/22/2010
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

Some Beasts

It was the twilight of the iguana:

From a rainbowing battlement,
a tongue like a javelin
lunging in verdure;
an ant heap treading the jungle,
monastic, on musical feet;
the guanaco, oxygen-fine
in the high places swarthed with distances,

[Report Error]