Pablo Neruda is one of my favorite poets. We can never forget 20 love poems and a song of despair. Actually, we might have studied at school, mainly, the poem number 20:
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not love her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Pablo Neruda had several houses. One of them is located in Valparaiso, Chile. It is called La Sebastiana and I immediately fell in love with that building when I met it, with its boat shape, its view to the sea from a high point on the hills, the interior decoration, the stories in the air. For example, inside the house there are two portraits faced, of a woman and a man, and Pablo Neruda used to play with it, imagining they were secret lovers. Sadly, you weren't supposed to take pictures there.
Luckily, Google has its resources
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- Have you ever read to Pablo Neruda?
- Don't you think he is a genius?
See you soon! And Happy Birthday, Pablo Neruda!
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