Culture

Pablo Neruda: I Remember You As You Were Pablo Neruda: I Remember You As You Were I remember you as you were in the last autumn. You were the grey beret and the still heart. In your eyes the flames of the twilight fought on. And the leaves fell in …

Pablo Neruda: You Are The Daughter Of The Sea Pablo Neruda: You Are The Daughter Of The Sea You are the daughter of the sea, oregano’s first cousin. Swimmer, your body is pure as the water; cook, your blood is quick as the soil. Everything you do is full of …

Pablo Neruda: Ode To Wine Pablo Neruda: Ode To Wine Day-colored wine, night-colored wine, wine with purple feet or wine with topaz blood, wine, starry child of earth, wine, smooth as a golden sword, soft as lascivious velvet, wine, spiral-seashelled and full of wonder, amorous, marine; never has one goblet …

Pablo Neruda: It’s Good To Feel You Are Close To Me Pablo Neruda: It’s Good To Feel You Are Close To Me It’s good to feel you are close to me in the night, love, invisible in your sleep, intently nocturnal, while I untangle my worries as if they were …

Pablo Neruda: Ode To Sadness Pablo Neruda: Ode To Sadness Sadness, scarab with seven crippled feet, spiderweb egg, scramble-brained rat, bitch’s skeleton: No entry here. Don’t come in. Go away. Go back south with your umbrella, go back north with your serpent’s teeth. A poet lives here. No sadness may …

Pablo Neruda: Ode To The Book Pablo Neruda: Ode To The Book When I close a book I open life. I hear faltering cries among harbours. Copper ignots slide down sand-pits to Tocopilla. Night time. Among the islands our ocean throbs with fish, touches the feet, the thighs, the chalk …

Pablo Neruda: Here I Love You Pablo Neruda: Here I Love You Here I love you. In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself. The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters. Days, all one kind, go chasing each other. The snow unfurls in dancing figures. A silver gull …

Pablo Neruda: I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair Pablo Neruda: I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the …

Pablo Neruda: Walking Around Pablo Neruda: Walking Around It so happens I am sick of being a man. And it happens that I walk into tailorshops and movie houses dried up, waterproof, like a swan made of felt steering my way in a water of wombs and ashes. The smell …