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Pablo Neruda

You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.

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To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.

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Peace goes into the making of a poem as flour goes into the making of bread.

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But from each crime are born bullets that will one day seek out in you where the heart lies.

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And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

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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.

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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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A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn't play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.

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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.

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Tell Me, Is The Rose Naked?

Tell me, is the rose naked
Or is that her only dress?

Why do trees conceal
The splendor of their roots?

Who hears the regrets
Of the thieving automobile?

Is there anything in the world sadder
Than a train standing in the rain?

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Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda