Home / Literature / Pablo Neruda (page 2)

Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode To The Artichoke

Ode To The Artichoke The artichoke With a tender heart Dressed up like a warrior, Standing at attention, it built A small helmet Under its scales It remained Unshakeable, By its side The crazy vegetables Uncurled Their tendrills and leaf-crowns, …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode to Salt

Ode to Salt This salt in the salt cellar I once saw in the salt mines. I know you won’t believe me but it sings salt sings, the skin of the salt mines sings with a mouth smothered by the …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode to Sadness

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. …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode to My Socks

Ode to My Socks Mara Mori brought me a pair of socks which she knitted herself with her sheepherder’s hands, two socks as soft as rabbits. I slipped my feet into them as if they were two cases knitted with …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode to Maize

Ode to Maize America, from a grain of maize you grew to crown with spacious lands the ocean foam. A grain of maize was your geography. From the grain a green lance rose, was covered with gold, to grace the …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode to Clothes

Ode to Clothes Every morning you wait, clothes, over a chair, to fill yourself with my vanity, my love, my hope, my body. Barely risen from sleep, I relinquish the water, enter your sleeves, my legs look for the hollows …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode To Broken Things

Ode To Broken Things Things get broken at home like they were pushed by an invisible, deliberate smasher. It’s not my hands or yours It wasn’t the girls with their hard fingernails or the motion of the planet. It wasn’t …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode To Bird Watching

Ode To Bird Watching Now Let’s look for birds! The tall iron branches in the forest, The dense fertility on the ground. The world is wet. A dewdrop or raindrop shines, a diminutive star among the leaves. The morning time …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Ode To A Naked Beauty

Ode To A Naked Beauty With chaste heart, and pure eyes I celebrate you, my beauty, restraining my blood so that the line surges and follows your contour, and you bed yourself in my verse, as in woodland, or wave-spume: …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Oda al Tomate

Oda al Tomate La calle se llenó de tomates, mediodia, verano, la luz se parte en dos mitades de tomate, corre por las calles el jugo. En diciembre se desata el tomate, invade las cocinas, entra por los almuerzos, se …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Nothing But Death

Nothing But Death There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through a tunnel, in it darkness, darkness, darkness, like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, as though …

Read More »

سروده ای از پابلو نرودا : ای عشق

ای عشق بی آنکه ببينمت بی آنکه نگاهت را بشناسم بی آنکه درکت کنم دوستت می داشتم شايد تو را ديده ام پيش از اين در حالی که ليوان شرابی را بلند می کردی شايد تو همان گيتاری بودی که …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Magellanic Penguin

Magellanic Penguin Neither clown nor child nor black nor white but verticle and a questioning innocence dressed in night and snow: The mother smiles at the sailor, the fisherman at the astronaunt, but the child child does not smile when …

Read More »

سروده ای از پابلو نرودا : هنگام مرگ

هنگام مرگ می خواهم به هنگام مرگ ، دو دست تو بر چشمانم باشد نور و گندم دستان عاشق پرست ات را که تازگی و لطافت شان بار دگر درونم گذر کند و نرمی دگرگونی سرنوشت ام را احساس کنم …

Read More »

A poem by Pablo Neruda : Luminous mind, bright devil

Luminous mind, bright devil Luminous mind, bright devil of absolute clusterings, of upright noon—: here we are at last, alone, without loneliness, far from the savage city’s delirium. Just as a pure line describes the dove’s curve, as the fire …

Read More »