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things of leather, of wood, of wool, archaic, faded, uniform, collect around me like walls. I work quietly, wheeling over myself, a crow over death, a crow in mourning. I mediate, isolated in the spread of seasons, centric, encircled by a silent geometry: a partial temperature drifts down from the sky,
Pablo Neruda was the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean Communist poet and politician Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. He chose his pen name after Czech poet Jan Neruda. Neruda wrote in a variety of styles such as erotically charged love poems as in his collection Twenty Poems of Love and a Song of Despair, surrealist poems, historical epics, and overtly political manifestos. In ...
Walking Around. Pablo Neruda. 1904 –. 1973. 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 of barbershops makes me break into hoarse sobs.
Poetry arrived. in search of me. I don’t know, I don’t know where. it came from, from winter or a river. I don’t know how or when, no they were not voices, they were not. words, nor silence, but from a street I was summoned, from the branches of night,
Pablo Neruda is one of the most influential and widely read 20th-century poets of the Americas. “No writer of world renown is perhaps so little known to North Americans as Chilean poet Pablo Neruda,” observed New York Times Book Review critic Selden Rodman.
Parral. died. September 23, 1973. Santiago de Chile. Pablo Neruda was the pen name and, later, legal name of the Chilean poet-diplomat and politician Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto. He derived his pen name from the Czech poet Jan Neruda. He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. Neruda became known as a poet while he was still a teenager.
Pablo Neruda. Drunk As Drunk. Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the sky's hot rim, The day's last breath in our sails.
