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Place Gifts Of Silver In Our Hands. Give Us This Day Our Daily Fish.

-Pablo Neruda

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Place Gifts Of Silver

Pablo Neruda

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Place Gifts Of Silver In Our Hands. Give Us This Day Our Daily Fish.

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Never An Illness, Nor The Absence Of Grandeur, No, Nothing Is Able To Kill The Best In Us, That Kindness, Dear Sir, We Are Afflicted With: Beautiful Is The Flower Of Man, His Conduct, And Every Door Opens On The Beautiful Truth And Never Hides Treacherous Whispers. I Always Gained Something From Making Myself Better, Better Than I Am, Better Than I Was, That Most Subtle Citation: To Recover Some Lost Petal Of The Sadness I Inherited: To Search Once More For The Light That Sings Inside Of Me, The Unwavering Light.

This Time Is Difficult. Wait For Me. We Will Live It Out Vividly. Give Me Your Small Hand: We Will Rise And Suffer, We Will Feel, We Will Rejoice. We Are Once More The Pair Who Lived In Bristling Places, In Harsh Nests In The Rock. This Time Is Difficult. Wait For Me With A Basket, With A Shovel, With Your Shoes And Your Clothes. Now We Need Each Other, Not Only For The Carnations' Sake, Not Only To Look For Honey — We Need Our Hands To Wash With, To Make Fire.

Death Is The Stone Into Which Our Oblivion Hardens.

Give Me, For My Life, All Lives, Give Me All The Pain Of Everyone, I'm Going To Turn It Into Hope. Give Me All The Joys, Even The Most Secret, Because Otherwise How Will These Things Be Known? I Have To Tell Them, Give Me The Labors Of Everyday, For That's What I Sing.

Each In The Most Hidden Sack Kept The Lost Jewels Of Memory, Intense Love, Secret Nights And Permanent Kisses, The Fragment Of Public Or Private Happiness. A Few, The Wolves, Collected Thighs, Other Men Loved The Dawn Scratching Mountain Ranges Or Ice Floes, Locomotives, Numbers. For Me Happiness Was To Share Singing, Praising, Cursing, Crying With A Thousand Eyes. I Ask Forgiveness For My Bad Ways: My Life Had No Use On Earth.

It Is Not So Much Light That Falls Over The World Extended By Your Body Its Suffocating Snow, As Brightness, Pouring Itself Out Of You, As If You Were Burning Inside. Under Your Skin The Moon Is Alive.

Oh Each Successive Night That Comes Has Something In It Of An Abandoned Ember That Is Slowly Burning Out, And It Falls Swathed In Ruins, Surrounded By Funereal Objects.

Raw Hatred Took Its Time Making An Outpost Of Its Rage And Prepared For Me A Savage Crown With Rusty, Bloodstained Spikes. It Wasn't Pride That Made Me Keep My Heart At A Distance From Such Terror, Nor Did I Waste On Revenge Or The Pursuit Of Power The Forces That Came From My Selfish Griefs Or My Accumulated Joys. It Was Something Else-my Helplessness.

I Have Been A Lucky Man. To Feel The Intimacy Of Brothers Is A Marvelous Thing In Life. To Feel The Love Of People Whom We Love Is A Fire That Feeds Our Life. But To Feel The Affection That Comes From Those Whom We Do Not Know, From Those Unknown To Us, Who Are Watching Over Our Sleep And Solitude, Over Our Dangers And Our Weaknesses – That Is Something Still Greater And More Beautiful Because It Widens Out The Boundaries Of Our Being, And Unites All Living Things.

I Don't Know Who It Is Who Lives Or Dies, Who Rests Or Wakes, But It Is Your Heart That Distributes All The Graces Of The Daybreak In My Breast.

Place Gifts Of Silver In Our Hands. Give Us This Day Our Daily Fish.

But I Love Your Feet Only Because They Walked Upon The Earth And Upon The Wind And Upon The Waters, Until They Found Me.

Hands Make The World Each Day.

Sufre Mas El Que Espera Siempre Que Aquel Que Nunca Espero A Nadie? Does He Who Is Always Waiting Suffer More Than He Who’s Never Waited For Anyone?

And Here Am I, Budding Among The Ruins With Only Sorrow To Bite On, As If Weeping Were A Seed And I The Earth's Only Furrow.

In This Part Of The Story I Am The One Who Dies, The Only One, And I Will Die Of Love Because I Love You, Because I Love You, Love, In Fire And In Blood.

While I'm Writing, I'm Far Away; And When I Come Back, I've Gone.

It's Hard To Tell / If We Close Our Eyes Or If Night / Opens In Us Other Starred Eyes, / If It Burrows Into The Wall Of Our Dream / Till Some Other Door Opens. / But The Dream Is Only The Flitting Costume Of One Moment, / Is Spent In One Beat / Of The Darkness, / And Falls At Our Feet, Cast Off / As The Day Stirs And Sails Away With Us.

Love! Love Until The Night Collapses!

And What Has Become Of It, Where Is That Onetime Love? Now It Is The Grave Of A Bird, A Drop Of Black Quartz, A Chunk Of Wood Eroded By The Rain.

Why Wasn't Christopher Columbus Able To Discover Spain?

Green Was The Silence, Wet Was The Light, The Month Of June Trembled Like A Butterfly.

I Spin On The Circle Of Wave Upon Wave Of The Sea.

And Our Problems Will Crumble Apart, The Soul / Blow Through Like A Wind, And Here Where We Live Will All Be Clean Again, With Fresh Bread On The Table.

I Love You As The Plant That Never Blooms But Carries In Itself The Light Of Hidden Flowers; Thanks To Your Love A Certain Solid Fragrence Risen From The Earth, Lives Darkly In My Body. And: No One Can Stop The River Of Your Hands, Your Eyes And Their Sleepiness, My Dearest. You Are The Trembling Of Time, Which Passes Between The Vertical Light And The Darkening Sky. And: From The Stormy Archipelagoes I Brought My Windy Accordian, Waves Of Crazy Rain, The Habitual Slowness Of Natural Things: They Made Up My Wild Heart.

All Paths Lead To The Same Goal: To Convey To Others What We Are.

The Days Aren't Discarded Or Collected, They Are Bees That Burned With Sweetness Or Maddened The Sting: The Struggle Continues, The Journeys Go And Come Between Honey And Pain. No, The Net Of Years Doesn't Unweave: There Is No Net. They Don't Fall Drop By Drop From A River: There Is No River. Sleep Doesn't Divide Life Into Halves, Or Action, Or Silence, Or Honor: Life Is Like A Stone, A Single Motion, A Lonesome Bonfire Reflected On The Leaves, An Arrow, Only One, Slow Or Swift, A Metal That Climbs Or Descends Burning In Your Bones.

I Ask Permission To Be Like Everybody Else,like The Rest Of The World And What's More, Like Anybody Else:i Beg You, With All My Heart,if We Are Talking About Me, Since We Are Talking About Me,please Resist Blasting The Trumpet During My Visitand Resign Yourselves To My Quiet Absence.

Of Everything I Have Seen, It's You I Want To Go On Seeing: Of Everything I've Touched, It's Your Flesh I Want To Go On Touching. I Love Your Orange Laughter. I Am Moved By The Sight Of You Sleeping. What Am I To Do, Love, Loved One? I Don't Know How Others Love Or How People Loved In The Past. I Live, Watching You, Loving You. Being In Love Is My Nature.

I'm Not Me But Living Matter Fermenting And Forming Its Own Shapes In The Fruitfulness Of Every Day.

From Sorrow To Sorrow Love Crosses Its Islands And Establishes Roots That Are Watered By Weeping.

I Am Not Jealous Of What Came Before Me. Come With A Man On Your Shoulders, Come With A Hundred Men In Your Hair, Come With A Thousand Men Between Your Breasts And Your Feet, Come Like A River Full Of Drowned Men Which Flows Down To The Wild Sea, To The Eternal Surf, To Time! Bring Them All To Where I Am Waiting For You; We Shall Always Be Alone, We Shall Always Be You And I Alone On Earth, To Start Our Life!

I Built Up These Lumber Piles Of Love, And With Fourteen Boards Each I Built Little Houses, So That Your Eyes, Which I Adore And Sing To, Might Live In Them. Now That I Have Declared The Foundations Of My Love, I Surrender This Century To You: Wooden Sonnets That Rise Only Because You Gave Them Life.

There's A Country Spread Out In The Sky, A Credulous Carpet Of Rainbows And Crepuscular Plants: I Move Toward It Just A Bit Haggardly, Trampling A Gravedigger's Rubble Still Moist From The Spade To Dream In A Bedlam Of Vegetables.

Sometimes I Get Up At Dawn, And Even My Soul Is Wet.

Tomorrow We Will Only Give Them A Leaf Of The Tree Of Our Love, A Leaf Which Will Fall On The Earth Like If It Had Been Made By Our Lips Like A Kiss Which Falls From Our Invincible Heights To Show The Fire And The Tenderness Of A True Love.

The Night Is Shattered, And The Blue Stars Shiver In The Distance.

You Can Cut All The Flowers But You Cannot Keep Spring From Coming.

Today Is Today, And Yesterday Is Gone. There Is No Doubt.

In Love, You Have Loosened Yourself Like Seawater

We Are Dust And To Dust Return. In The End We're Neither Air, Nor Fire, Nor Water, Just Dirt, Neither More Nor Less, Just Dirt, And Maybe Some Yellow Flowers.

When I Sleep Every Night, What Am I Called Or Not Called? And When I Wake, Who Am I If I Was Not I While I Slept?

We Must Dream Our Way.

You Can Say Anything You Want, Yessir, But It's The Words That Sing, They Soar And Descend...i Bow To Them...i Love Them, I Cling To Them, I Run Them Down, I Bite Into Them, I Melt Them Down...i Love Words So Much...the Unexpected Ones...the Ones I Wait For Greedily Or Stalk Until, Suddenly, They Drop.

But When I Call For A Hero, Out Comes My Lazy Old Self; So I Never Know Who I Am, Nor How Many I Am Or Will Be. I'd Love To Be Able To Touch A Bell And Summon The Real Me, Because If I Really Need Myself, I Mustn't Disappear.

When Everything Seems To Be Set To Show Me Off As Intelligent, The Fool I Always Keep Hidden Takes Over All That I Say.

Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines...though This Be The Last Pain That She Makes Me Suffer And These The Last Verses That I Write For Her.

In You Is The Illusion Of Each Day. You Arrive Like The Dew To The Cupped Flowers. You Undermine The Horizon With Your Absence. Eternally In Flight Like The Wave.

I Love All Things, Not Because They Are Passionate Or Sweet-smelling But Because, I Don't Know, Because This Ocean Is Yours, And Mine: These Buttons And Wheels And Little Forgotten Treasures, Fans Upon Whose Feathers Love Has Scattered Its Blossoms, Glasses, Knives And Scissors -- All Bear The Trace Of Someone's Fingers On Their Handle Or Surface, The Trace Of A Distant Hand Lost In The Depths Of Forgetfulness.

In The Distance Someone Is Singing.

Writing Poetry, We Live Among The Wild Beasts, And When We Touch A Man, The Stuff Of Someone In Whom We Believed, And He Goes To Pieces Like A Rotten Pie, You... Gather Together Whatever Can Be Salvaged, While I Cup My Hands Around The Live Coal Of Life.

Tie Your Heart At Night To Mine, Love, And Both Will Defeat The Darkness Like Twin Drums Beating In The Forest Against The Heavy Wall Of Wet Leaves. Night Crossing: Black Coal Of Dream That Cuts The Thread Of Earthly Orbs With The Punctuality Of A Headlong Train That Pulls Cold Stone And Shadow Endlessly. Love, Because Of It, Tie Me To A Purer Movement, To The Grip On Life That Beats In Your Breast, With The Wings Of A Submerged Swan, So That Our Dream Might Reply To The Sky's Questioning Stars With One Key, One Door Closed To Shadow.

I Stalk Certain Words... I Catch Them In Mid-flight, As They Buzz Past, I Trap Them, Clean Them, Peel Them, I Set Myself In Front Of The Dish, They Have A Crystalline Texture To Me, Vibrant, Ivory, Vegetable, Oily, Like Fruit, Like Algae, Like Agates, Like Olives... I Stir Them, I Shake Them, I Drink Them, I Gulp Them Down, I Mash Them, I Garnish Them... I Leave Them In My Poem Like Stalactites, Like Slivers Of Polished Wood, Like Coals, Like Pickings From A Shipwreck, Gifts From The Waves... Everything Exists In The Word.

I Say Love, And The World Populates Itself With Doves.

I Love You As Certain Dark Things Are To Be Loved, In Secret, Between The Shadow And The Soul.

It Was My Destiny To Love And Say Goodbye.

When Your Hands Leap Towards Mine, Love, What Do They Bring Me In Flight?

The Best Poet Is The Man Who Delivers Our Daily Bread: The Local Baker.

The Typewriter Separated Me From A Deeper Intimacy With Poetry, And My Hand Brought Me Closer To That Intimacy Again.

I Have Never Thought Of My Life As Divided Between Poetry And Politics.

What Does Autumn Go On Paying For With So Much Yellow Money?

Perhaps This War Will Pass Like The Others Which Divided Us Leaving Us Dead, Killing Us Along With The Killers But The Shame Of This Time Puts Its Burning Fingers To Our Faces. Who Will Erase The Ruthlessness Hidden In Innocent Blood?

How You Must Have Suffered Getting Accustomed To Me, My Savage, Solitary Soul, My Name That Sends Them All Running. So Many Times We Have Seen The Morning Star Burn, Kissing Our Eyes, And Over Our Heads The Grey Light Unwinds In Turning Fans.

Give Me Your Hand Out Of The Depths Sown By Your Sorrows.

In The House Of Poetry Nothing Endures That Is Not Written With Blood To Be Heard With Blood.

Megaphone In Which The Wind Passes Singing.

Then Love Knew It Was Called Love. And When I Lifted My Eyes To Your Name, Suddenly Your Heart Showed Me My Way

I Don't Want To Go On Being A Root In The Dark, Vacillating, Stretched Out, Shivering With Sleep, Downward, In The Soaked Guts Of The Earth, Absorbing And Thinking, Eating Each Day.

Love Is The Mystery Of Water And A Star.

I Want To Do For You What The Spring Does For The Cherry Trees

Conspirators In Pajamas Who Exchange Deep Kisses For Passwords.

In Your Eyes Of Mourning The Land Of Dreams Begins.

Someday, Somewhere - Anywhere, Unfailingly, You'll Find Yourself, And That, And Only That, Can Be The Happiest Or Bitterest Hour Of Your Life.

Finding Yourself

The Bare Earth, Plantless, Waterless, Is An Immense Puzzle. In The Forests Or Beside Rivers Everything Speaks To Humans. The Desert Does Not Speak. I Could Not Comprehend Its Tongue; Its Silence...

Girl Lithe And Tawny, The Sun That Forms The Fruits, That Plumps The Grains, That Curls Seaweeds Filled Your Body With Joy, And Your Luminous Eyes And Your Mouth That Has The Smile Of The Water. A Black Yearning Sun Is Braided Into The Strands Of Your Black Mane, When You Stretch Your Arms. You Play With The Sun As With A Little Brook And It Leaves Two Dark Pools In Your Eyes.

There Were Thirst And Hunger, And You Were The Fruit. There Were Grief And The Ruins, And You Were The Miracle.

Is 4 The Same 4 For Everybody? Are All Sevens Equal? When The Convict Ponders The Light Is It The Same Light That Shines On You?

I Want To See The Thirst Inside The Syllables I Want To Touch The Fire In The Sound: I Want To Feel The Darkness Of The Cry. I Want Words As Rough As Virgin Rocks.” - Verb.

The Hardest Way Of Learning Is That Of Easy Reading.

And I, A Materialist Who Does Not Believe In The Starry Heaven Promised To A Human Being, For This Dog And For Every Dog I Believe In Heaven, Yes, I Believe In A Heaven That I Will Never Enter, But He Waits For Me Wagging His Big Fan Of A Tail So I, Soon To Arrive, Will Feel Welcomed.

Hate Is Like A Swordfish, Working Through Water Invisibly And Then You See It Coming With Blood Along Its Blade, But Transparency Disarms It.

If Each Day Falls Inside Each Night, There Exists A Well Where Clarity Is Imprisoned. We Need To Sit On The Rim Of The Well Of Darkness And Fish For Fallen Light With Patience.

White Bee, Even When You Are Gone You Buzz In My Soul You Live Again In Time, Slender And Silent.

I Want To Do With You What The Spring Does With The Cherry Trees.

Two Things Make A Story. The Net And The Air That Falls Through The Net.

We Open The Halves Of A Miracle, And A Clotting Of Acids Brims Into The Starry Divisions: Creation's Original Juices, Irreducible, Changeless, Alive: So The Freshness Lives On

Latin America Is Very Fond Of The Word "hope." We Like To Be Called The "continent Of Hope." Candidates For Deputy, Senator, President, Call Themselves "candidates Of Hope." This Hope Is Really Something Like A Promise Of Heaven, An Iou Whose Payment Is Always Being Put Off. It Is Put Off Until The Next Legislative Campaign, Until Next Year, Until The Next Century.

Oh To Follow The Road That Leads Away From Everything, Without Anguish, Death, Winter Waiting Along It With Their Eyes Open Through The Dew.

My Soul Is An Empty Carousel At Sunset.

Who Writes Your Name In Letters Of Smoke Among The Stars Of The South? Oh Let Me Remember You As You Were Before You Existed.

I Stood On The Balcony Dark With Mourning... Hoping The Earth Would Spread Its Wings In My Uninhabited Love.

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 For I Shall Already Have Forgotten You If You Think It Long And Mad The Wind Of Banners That Passes Through My Life And You Decide To Leave Me At The Shore Of The Heart Where I Have Roots Remember That On That Day, At That Hour, I Shall Lift My Arms And My Roots Will Set Off To Seek Another Land

We Have To Discard The Past / And, As One Builds / Floor By Floor, Window By Window, / And The Building Rises, / So Do We Keep Shedding - First, Broken Tiles, / Then Proud Doors... And Each New Day / Gleams / Like An Empty / Plate.

But From Each Crime Are Born Bullets That Will One Day Seek Out In You Where The Heart Lies.

I Love All Things, Not Only The Grand But The Infinitely Small: Thimble, Spurs, Plates, Flower Vases.

You & I, Love, Together We Ratify The Silence, While The Sea Destroys Its Perpetual Statues, Collapses Its Towers Of Wild Speed And Whiteness: Because In The Weavings Of Those Invisible Fabrics, Galloping Water, Incessant Sand, We Make The Only Permanent Tenderness.

Like A Jar You Housed The Infinite Tenderness, And The Infinite Oblivion Shattered You Like A Jar.

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You; I Go From Loving To Not Loving You, From Waiting To Not Waiting For You My Heart Moves From Cold To Fire. I Love You Only Because It's You The One I Love; I Hate You Deeply, And Hating You Bend To You, And The Measure Of My Changing Love For You Is That I Do Not See You But Love You Blindly. Maybe January Light Will Consume My Heart With Its Cruel Ray, Stealing My Key To True Calm. In This Part Of The Story I Am The One Who Dies, The Only One, And I Will Die Of Love Because I Love You, Because I Love You, Love, In Fire And Blood.

From Scarlet To Powdered Gold, To Blazing Yellow, To The Rare Ashen Emerald, To The Orange And Black Velvet Of Your Shimmering Corselet, Out To The Tip That Like An Amber Thorn Begins You, Small, Superlative Being, You Are A Miracle, And You Blaze

The Road Made Wet By The Water Of August Shines Like It Was Cut In Full Moonlight

What Did The Tree Learn From The Earth To Be Able To Talk With The Sky?

If You Should Ask Me Where I've Been All This Time I Have To Say "things Happen." I Have To Dwell On Stones Darkening The Earth, On The River Ruined In Its Own Duration: I Know Nothing Save Things The Birds Have Lost, The Sea I Left Behind, Or My Sister Crying. Why This Abundance Of Places? Why Does Day Lock With Day? Why The Dark Night Swilling Round In Our Mouths? And Why The Dead?

Loving Is A Journey With Water And With Stars, With Smothered Air And Abrupt Storms Of Flour: Loving Is A Clash Of Lightning-bolts And Two Bodies Defeated By A Single Drop Of Honey.

Hay Algo Más Tonto En La Vida Que Llamarse Pablo Neruda? (is There Anything More Insane In This Life Than Being Called Pablo Neruda?)

Like Them You Are Tall And Taciturn, And You Are Sad, All At Once, Like A Voyage.

Love, How Many Roads To Obtain A Kiss.

He Who Has Nothing—it Has Been Said Many Times—has Nothing To Lose But His Chains.

Nothing To Lose

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.

Under Your Skin The Moon Is Alive.

About Me, Nothing Worse They Will Tell You, My Love, Than What I Told You

Who Do I Belong To? How Come I Mortgaged My Being Till I Don't Belong To Myself? How Come I Sold My Blood? And Who Now Owns My Indecisions, My Hands, My Private Pain, My Pride?

Oh Love, Rose Made Wet By Mermaids And Foams, Fire That Dances And Climbs Up The Invisible Stairs And Awakens The Blood In The Tunnel Of Sleeplessness.

When Did The Lemons Learn The Same Creed As The Sun?

Let Us Look For Secret Things Somewhere In The World On The Blue Shore Of Silence Or Where The Storm Has Passed Rampaging Like A Train. There The Faint Signs Are Left, Coins Of Time And Water, Debris ,celestial Ash And The Irreplaceable Rapture Of Sharing In The Labour Of Soitude In The Sand.

I Have Named You Queen. There Are Taller Than You, Taller. There Are Purer Than You, Purer. There Are Lovelier Than You, Lovelier. But You Are The Queen.

I've Come Within Range Of Hate. Terrifying, Its Tremors, Its Dizzying Obsessions. Hate's Like A Swordfish Invisible In The Water, Knifing Suddenly Into Sight With Blood On Its Blade- Clear Water Misleads You.

My Duty Moves Along With My Song: I Am I Am Not: That Is My Destiny. I Exist Not If I Do Not Attend To The Pain Of Those Who Suffer: They Are My Pains. For I Cannot Be Without Existing For All, For All Who Are Silent And Oppressed, I Come From The People And I Sing For Them: My Poetry Is Song And Punnishment.

Your Wide Eyes Are The Only Light I Know From Extinguished Constellations.

And The Verse Falls To The Soul Like Dew To The Pasture.

I Grew Up In This Town, My Poetry Was Born Between The Hill And The River, It Took Its Voice From The Rain, And Like The Timber, It Steeped Itself In The Forests.

I Am Made Of Earth, And My Song Made Of Words.

The Books That Help You Most Are Those Which Make You Think That Most. The Hardest Way Of Learning Is That Of Easy Reading; But A Great Book That Comes From A Great Thinker Is A Ship Of Thought, Deep Freighted With Truth And Beauty.

Our Love Was Born Outside The Walls, In The Wind, In The Night, In The Earth, And That's Why The Clay And The Flower, The Mud And The Roots Know Your Name.

We Came By Night To The Fortunate Isles, And Lay Like Fish Under The Net Of Our Kisses.

I Think It Was Very Informative, But A Lot Still Needs To Be Done.

Perhaps The Earth Can Teach Us As When Everything Seems Dead And Later Proves To Be Alive

I No Longer Love Her, That's Certain, But Maybe I Love Her. Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long.

Eating Alone Is A Disappointment. But Not Eating Matter More, Is Hollow And Green, Has Thorns Like A Chain Of Fish Hooks, Trailing From The Heart, Clawing At Your Insides. Hunger Feels Like Pincers, Like The Bite Of Crabs; It Burns, Burns, And Has No Fur. Let Us Sit Down Soon To Eat With All Those Who Haven't Eaten; Let Us Spread Great Tablecloths, Put Salt In Lakes Of The World, Set Up Planetary Bakeries, Tables With Strawberries In Snow, And A Plate Like The Moon Itself From Which We Can All Eat. For Now I Ask No More Than The Justice Of Eating.

I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair.

Como Se Reparten El Sol En El Naranjo Las Naranjas? How Do The Oranges Divide Up Sunlight In The Orange Tree?

Over Your Breasts Of Motionless Current, Over Your Legs Of Firmness And Water, Over The Permanence And The Pride Of Your Naked Hair I Want To Be, My Love, Now That The Tears Are Thrown Into The Raucous Baskets Where They Accumulate, I Want To Be, My Love, Alone With A Syllable Of Mangled Silver, Alone With A Tip Of Your Breast Of Snow.

I Got Lost In The Night, Without The Light Of Your Eyelids, And When The Night Surrounded Me I Was Born Again: I Was The Owner Of My Own Darkness.

For Now I Ask No More Than The Justice Of Eating.

I Do Not Love You-except Because I Love You; I Go From Loving To Not Loving You, From Waiting To Not Waiting For You My Heart Moves From The Cold Into The Fire.

You Came To My Life With What You Were Bringing, Made Of Light And Bread And Shadow I Expected You, And Like This I Need You, Like This I Love You, And To Those Who Want To Hear Tomorrow That Which I Will Not Tell Them, Let Them Read It Here, And Let Them Back Off Today Because It Is Early For These Arguments.

To Love Is To Tilt With The Lightning, Two Bodies Routed By A Single Honey's Sweet.

If Suddenly You Do Not Exist, If Suddenly You Are Not Living, I Shall Go On Living. I Do Not Dare, I Do Not Dare To Write It, If You Die. I Shall Go On Living.

Love, What A Long Way, To Arrive At A Kiss.

I Have Forgotten Your Love, Yet I Seem To Glimpse You In Every Window.

If We Were Not So Single-minded About Keeping Our Lives Moving And For Once Could Do Nothing, Perhaps A Huge Silence Might Interrupt This Sadness Of Never Understanding Ourselves And Of Threatening Ourselves With Death Perhaps The World Can Teach Us As When Everything Seems Dead But Later Proves To Be Alive.

Bitter Love, A Violet With It's Crown Of Thorns In A Thicet Of Spiky Passions, Spear Of Sorrow, Corolla Of Rage: How Did You Come To Conquer My Soul? What Brought You?

The Ardent Hymn That Unites Peoples.

So I Love You Because I Know No Other Way Than This: Where I Does Not Exist, Nor You, So Close That Your Hand On My Chest Is My Hand, So Close That Your Eyes Close As I Fall Asleep.

Here I Came To The Very Edge Where Nothing At All Needs Saying, Everything Is Absorbed Through Weather And The Sea, And The Moon Swam Back, Its Rays All Silvered, And Time And Again The Darkness Would Be Broken By The Crash Of A Wave, And Every Day On The Balcony Of The Sea, Wings Open, Fire Is Born, And Everything Is Blue Again Like Morning.

La Heradera Del Dia Destruida. (the Heiress Of The Destroyed Day.)

I Had No More Alphabet Than The Journeying Of The Swallows, The Pure And Tiny Water Of The Small, Fiery Bird That Dances Rising From The Pollen.

And I, Infinitesimal Being, Drunk With The Great Starry Void, Likeness, Image Of Mystery, I Felt Myself A Pure Part Of The Abyss, I Wheeled With The Stars, My Heart Broke Loose On The Wind.

Everything Is So Alive, That I Can Be Alive. Without Moving I Can See It All. In Your Life I See Everything That Lives.

I Stroll Along Serenely, With My Eyes, My Shoes, My Rage, Forgetting Everything, I Walk By, Going Through Office Buildings And Orthopedic Shops, And Courtyards With Washing Hanging From The Line: Underwear, Towels And Shirts From Which Slow Dirty Tears Are Falling.

I Stroll Along Serenely, With My Eyes, My Shoes, My Rage, Forgetting Everything.

I Move In The University Of The Waves.

And I Watch My Words From A Long Way Off. They Are More Yours Than Mine. They Climb On My Old Suffering Like Ivy.

O Merry, Merry, Merry, Like Only Dogs Know How To Be Happy And Nothing More, With An Absolute Shameless Nature.

You Must Know That I Do Not Love And That I Love You, Because Everything Alive Has Its Two Sides; A Word Is One Wing Of Silence, Fire Has Its Cold Half. I Love You In Order To Begin To Love You, To Start Infinity Again And Never To Stop Loving You: That’s Why I Do Not Love You Yet. I Love You, And I Do Not Love You, As If I Held Keys In My Hand: To A Future Of Joy- A Wretched, Muddled Fate- My Love Has Two Lives, In Order To Love You. -sonnet Xliv

Here I Love You And The Horizon Hides You In Vain. I Love You Still Among These Cold Things. Sometimes My Kisses Go On Those Heavy Vessels That Cross The Sea Towards No Arrival. I See Myself Forgotten Like Those Old Anchors. The Piers Sadden When The Afternoon Moors There. My Life Grows Tired, Hungry To No Purpose. I Love What I Do Not Have. You Are So Far. My Loathing Wrestles With The Slow Twilights. But Night Comes And Starts To Sing To Me.

So I Wait For You Like A Lonely House Till You Will See Me Again And Live In Me. Till Then My Windows Ache.

Take Bread Away From Me, If You Wish, Take Air Away, But Do Not Take From Me Your Laughter.

In What Language Does Rain Fall Over Tormented Cities?

Look Around—there's Only One Thing Of Danger For You Here—poetry.

What Will They Say About My Poetry Who Never Touched My Blood?

There Is No Space Wider Than That Of Grief.

There Is No Insurmountable Solitude.

Pale Blind Diver, Luckless Slinger, Lost Discoverer, In You Everything Sank!

I Hunger For Your Sleek Laugh And Your Hands The Color Of A Furious Harvest. I Want To Eat The Sunbeams Flaring In Your Beauty.

Fue Adondo A Mi Me Perdieron Quw Logre Por Fin Encontrarme? Was It Where They Lost Me That I Finally Found Myself?

You Are Like Nobody Since I Love You.

By Night, Love, Tie Your Heart To Mine, And The Two Together In Their Sleep Will Defeat The Darkness

But If Each Day, Each Hour, You Feel That You Are Destined For Me With Implacable Sweetness, If Each Day A Flower Climbs Up To Your Lips To Seek Me, Ah My Love, Ah My Own, In Me All That Fire Is Repeated, In Me Nothing Is Extinguished Or Forgotten, My Love Feeds On Your Love, Beloved, And As Long As You Live It Will Be In Your Arms Without Leaving Mine.

What Can I Say Without Touching The Earth With My Hands?

Sometimes A Piece Of Sun Burned Like A Coin In My Hand.

No, My Dog Used To Gaze At Me, Paying Me The Attention I Need, The Attention Required To Make A Vain Person Like Me Understand That, Being A Dog, He Was Wasting Time, But, With Those Eyes So Much Purer Than Mine, He’d Keep On Gazing At Me With A Look That Reserved For Me Alone All His Sweet And Shaggy Life, Always Near Me, Never Troubling Me, And Asking Nothing.

We The Mortals Touch The Metals, The Wind, The Ocean Shores, The Stones, Knowing They Will Go On, Inert Or Burning, And I Was Discovering, Naming All The These Things: It Was My Destiny To Love And Say Goodbye.

I Have Named You Queen. There Are Taller Than You, Taller. There Are Purer Than You, Purer. There Are Lovelier Than You, Lovelier. But You Are The Queen. When You Go Through The Streets No One Recognizes You. No One Sees Your Crystal Crown, No One Looks At The Carpet Of Red Gold That You Tread As You Pass, The Nonexistent Carpet. And When You Appear All The Rivers Sound In My Body, Bells Shake The Sky, And A Hymn Fills The World. Only You And I, Only You And I, My Love, Listen To It.

Between Lips And Lips There Are Cities Of Great Ash And Moist Summit, Drops Of When And How, Vague Comings And Goings: Between Lips And Lips As Along A Shore Of Sand And Glass The Wind Passes.

I Should Like To Sleep Like A Cat, With All The Fur Of Time, With A Tongue Rough As Flint, With The Dry Sex Of Fire; And After Speaking To No One, Stretch Myself Over The World, Over Roofs And Landscapes, With A Passionate Desire To Hunt The Rats In My Dreams.

Love Has To Be…flowering Like The Stars, And Measureless As A Kiss.

Let Us Forget With Generosity Those Who Cannot Love Us

I Learned About Life From Life Itself, Love I Learned In A Single Kiss And Could Teach No One Anything Except That I Have Lived With Something In Common Among Men.

Ah, Love Is A Voyage With Water And A Star, In Drowning Air And Squalls Of Precipitate Bran; Love Is A War Of Lights In The Lightning Flashes, Two Bodies Blasted In A Single Burst Of Honey.

I Want To See Thirst In The Syllables, Tough Fire In The Sound; Feel Through The Dark For The Scream.

I Was The Owner Of My Own Darkness.

She Did Not Speak For Speech Was Unknown To Her.

Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long.

Someone Will Ask Later, Sometimes Searching For A Name, His Own Or Someone's Else's Why I Neglected His Sadness Or His Love... But I Didn't Have Enough Time Or Ink For Everyone. Or Maybe It Was The Strain Of The City, Of Time The Cold Heart Of The Clocks.

This Means That We Have Barely Disembarked Into Life, That We've Only Just Now Been Born, Let's Not Fill Our Mouths With So Many Uncertain Names, With So Many Sad Labels, With So Many Pompous Letters, With So Much Yours And Mine, With So Much Signing Of Papers. I Intend To Confuse Things, To Unite Them, Make Them New-born Intermingle Them, Undress Them, Until The Light Of The World Has The Unity Of The Ocean, A Generous Wholeness, A Fragrance Alive And Crackling.

De Pronto No Puedo Decirte Lo Que Yo Te Debo Decir, Hombre,perdóname; Sabrás Que Aunque No Escuches Mis Palabras No Me Eché A Llorar Ni A Dormir Y Que Contigo Estoy Sin Verte Desde Hace Tiempo Y Hasta El Fin. I Can't Just Suddenly Tell You What I Should Be Telling You, Friend, Forgive Me; You Know That Although You Don't Hear My Words, I Wasn't Asleep Or In Tears, That I Am With You Without Seeing You For A Good Long Time And Until The End.

I Walked Around As You Do, Investigating The Endless Star, And In My Net, During The Night, I Woke Up Naked, The Only Thing Caught, A Fish Trapped Inside The Wind.

I Like On The Table, When We're Speaking, The Light Of A Bottle Of Intelligent Wine.

O Happy Childhood! Blessed Youth! But Once We Know Thy Potent Power; But Once We Live All Careless Free; No Cross To Mar Our Love-lit Bower.

I Love You Between Shadow And Soul. I Love You As The Plant That Hasn't Bloomed Yet, And Carries Hidden Within Itself The Light Of Flowers. I Love You Without Knowing How, Or When, Or From Where. Because Of You, The Dense Fragrance That Rises From The Earth Lives In My Body, Rioting With Hunger For The Eternity Of Our Victorious Kisses.

Day-colored Wine, Night-colored Wine, Wine With Purple Feet Or Wine With Topaz Blood, Wine, Starry Child Of Earth.

Do Tears Not Yet Spilled Wait In Small Lakes?

Whom Can I Ask What I Came To Make Happen In This World? Why Do I Move Without Wanting To, Why Am I Not Able To Sit Still? Why Do I Go Rolling Without Wheels, Flying Without Wings Or Feathers, And Why Did I Decide To Migrate If My Bones Live In Chile?

So The Freshness Lives On In A Lemon, In The Sweet-smelling House Of The Rind, The Proportions, Arcane And Acerb.

Wakening From The Dreaming Forest There, The Hazel-sprig Sang Under My Tongue, Its Drifting Fragrance Climbed Up Through My Conscious Mind As If Suddenly The Roots I Had Left Behind Cried Out To Me, The Land I Had Lost With My Childhood - And I Stopped, Wounded By The Wandering Scent.

Nobody Can Claim The Name Of Pedro, Nobody Is Rosa Or María, All Of Us Are Dust Or Sand, All Of Us Are Rain Under Rain. They Have Spoken To Me Of Venezuelas, Of Chiles And Paraguays; I Have No Idea What They Are Saying. I Know Only The Skin Of The Earth And I Know It Has No Name.

Maybe Nothingness Is To Be Without Your Presence, Without You Moving, Slicing The Noon Like A Blue Flower, Without You Walking Later Through The Fog And The Cobbles, Without The Light You Carry In Your Hand, Golden, Which Maybe Others Will Not See, Which Maybe No One Knew Was Growing Like The Red Beginnings Of A Rose. In Short, Without Your Presence: Without Your Coming Suddenly, Incitingly, To Know My Life, Gust Of A Rosebush, Wheat Of Wind: Since Then I Am Because You Are, Since Then You Are, I Am, We Are, And Through Love I Will Be, You Will Be, We Will Be.

Hour Of Nostalgia, Hour Of Happiness, Hour Of Solitude.

How Much Does A Man Live, After All?/ Does He Live A Thousand Days, Or One Only? For A Week, Or For Several Centuries?/ How Long Does A Man Spend Dying?/ What Does It Mean To Say 'for Ever'?

The Tomato Offers Its Gift Of Fiery Color And Cool Completeness.

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