Fleas Interest Me So Much (Pablo Neruda Poems)
Fleas interest me so muchthat I let them bite me for hours.They are perfect, ancient, Sanskrit,machines that admit of no ...
Fleas interest me so muchthat I let them bite me for hours.They are perfect, ancient, Sanskrit,machines that admit of no ...
Leave me a place underground, a labyrinth,where I can go, when I wish to turn,without eyes, without touch,in the void, ...
The tree is here, still, in pure stone,in deep evidence, in solid beauty,layered, through a hundred million years.Agate, cornelian, gemstonetransmuted ...
Your whole body hasa fullness or a gentleness destined for me.When I move my hand upI find in each place ...
Everything on the earth bristled, the bramblepricked and the green threadnibbled away, the petal fell, fallinguntil the only flower was ...
Who ever desired each other as we do? Let us lookfor the ancient ashes of hearts that burned,and let our ...
You swallowed everything, like distance.Like the sea, like time.In you everything sank!It was the happy hour of assault and the ...
Tell me, is the rose nakedOr is that her only dress?.Why do trees concealThe splendor of their roots?.Who hears the ...
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at ...
Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, 'The night is starry and the stars are blue and ...
The light wraps you in its mortal flame. Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way against the old propellers of the ...
The artichoke of delicate heart erect in its battle-dress, builds its minimal cupola; keeps stark in its scallop of scales. ...
I like for you to be still It is as though you are absent And you hear me from far ...
How neatly a cat sleeps, Sleeps with its paws and its posture, Sleeps with its wicked claws, And with its ...
Among the market greens, a bullet from the ocean depths, a swimming projectile, I saw you, dead. All around you ...
The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea. Deserted ...
You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin. Swimmer, your body is pure as the water; cook, your ...
In the storm-tossed Chilean sea lives the rosy conger, giant eel of snowy flesh. And in Chilean stewpots, along the ...
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -- because -- I don't know how to say it: ...
When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little ...
From bristly foliage you fell complete, polished wood, gleaming mahogany, as perfect as a violin newly born of the treetops, ...
What's wrong with you, with us, what's happening to us? Ah our love is a harsh cord that binds us ...
Onion, luminous flask, your beauty formed petal by petal, crystal scales expanded you and in the secrecy of the dark ...
America, from a grain of maize you grew to crown with spacious lands the ocean foam. A grain of maize ...
Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake ...
The artichoke With a tender heart Dressed up like a warrior, Standing at attention, it built A small helmet Under ...
Come with me, I said, and no one knew where, or how my pain throbbed, no carnations or barcaroles for ...
O tower of light, sad beauty that magnified necklaces and statues in the sea, calcareous eye, insignia of the vast ...
Don't go far off, not even for a day Don't go far off, not even for a day, Because I ...
There are cemeteries that are lonely, graves full of bones that do not make a sound, the heart moving through ...
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