“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which...”
48 likes
Author detail
Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto (12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973), better known by his pen name and, later, legal name Pablo Neruda (/nəˈruːdə/; Spanish: [ˈpaβlo neˈɾuða]), was a Chilean poet-diplomat and politician who won the 1971 Nobel Prize in Literature. Neruda became known as a poet when he was 13 years old, and wrote in a variety of styles, including surrealist poems, historical epics, overtly political manifestos, a prose autobiography, and passionate love poems such as the ones in his collection Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair (1924). [source](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pablo_Neruda)
Quotes
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“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which...”
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“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
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“Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”
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“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...”
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“I want To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
“Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.”
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“As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”
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“Tonight I can write the saddest lines I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.”
“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 liquid measure of your steps....”
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“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.”
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“Sonnet XVII I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the sh...”
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“so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.”
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“But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.”
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“I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.”
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“If You Forget Me I want you to know one thing. 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...”
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“Love. Because of you, in gardens of blossoming Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring. I have forgotten your face, I no longer Remember your hands; how did your lips Feel on mine? Becaus...”
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“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.”
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“Then love knew it was called love. And when I lifted my eyes to your name, suddenly your heart showed me my way”
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“Don't go far off, not even for a day, because I don't know how to say it - a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else,...”
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“I am no longer in love with her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”