Who Ever Desired Each Other As We Do?

Who ever desired each other as we do?
Let us look for the ancient ashes of hearts that burned,
And let our kisses touch there, one by one,
Till the flower, disembodied, rises again.

Let us love that Desire that consumed its own fruit
And went down, aspect and power, into the earth:
We are its continuing light,
Its indestructible, fragile seed

Poem by Pablo Neruda
Sonet XCV
Photo by Hely29

In You The Earth

Little
Rose,
Roselet,
At times,
Tiny and naked,
It seems
As though you would fit
In one of my hands,
As though I’ll clasp you like this
And carry you to my mouth,
But
Suddenly
My feet touch your feet and my mouth your lips:
You have grown,
Your shoulders rise like two hills,
Your breasts wander over my breast,
My arm scarcely manages to encircle the thin
New-moon line of your waist:
In love, you loosened yourself like sea water:
I can scarcely measure the sky’s most spacious eyes
And I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.

Poem by Pablo Neruda
Photo By FotoMinor

Rest With Your Dream Inside My Dream

Already, you are mine. Rest with your dream inside my dream.

Love, grief, labour, must sleep now.

Night revolves on invisible wheels

And joined to me you are pure as sleeping amber.

No one else will sleep with my dream, love.

You will go we will go joined by the waters of time.

No other one will travel the shadows with me,

Only you, eternal nature, eternal sun, eternal moon.

Already your hands have opened their delicate fists

And let fall, without direction, their gentle signs,

You eyes enclosing themselves like two grey wings,

While I follow the waters you bring that take me onwards:

Night, Earth, winds weave their fate, and already,

Not only am I not without you, I alone am your dream. 

Poem by Pablo Neruda

Photo of Eva Eden
AKA: Rosa Dolmai
Country: England

Love Sonnet XI

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. 

I hunger for your sleek laugh, 
Your hands the color of a savage harvest, 
Hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, 
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. 

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, 
The sovereign nose of your arrogant face, 
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, 

And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, 
Hunting for you, for your hot heart, 
Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

Poem by  Pablo Neruda

Die Slowly

He who becomes the slave of habit,
Who follows the same routes every day,
Who never changes pace,
Who does not risk and change the color of his clothes,
Who does not speak and does not experience,
Dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion,
Who prefers black on white,
Dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions,
The kind that make your eyes glimmer,
That turn a yawn into a smile,
That make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings,
Dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,
Who is unhappy at work,
Who does not risk certainty for uncertainty,
To thus follow a dream,
Those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, 
Die slowly.

He who does not travel, who does not read,
Who does not listen to music,
Who does not find grace in himself,
She who does not find grace in herself,
Dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem,
Who does not allow himself to be helped,
Who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,
About the rain that never stops,
Dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,
Who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know,
He or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
Die slowly.

Let's try and avoid death in small doses,
Reminding oneself that:
Being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will lead
To the attainment of a splendid happiness.

(Poem by Pablo Neruda)

I Have Named You Queen

I Have Named You Queen
When you go through the streetsNo one sees your crystal crown

No one looks at the carpet of red gold
That you tread as you pass
The nonexistent carpetAnd when you appear
All the rivers sound
In my body, bells
Shake the sky
And a hymn fills the worldOnly you and I
Only you and I, my love
Listen to it.

Poem by Pablo Neruda

Photo: Lady In Black

By domatescilek

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:
earth’ss perfume,
sea’s music.
Nakedly beautiful,
whether it is your feet, arching
at a primal touch
of sound or breeze,
or your ears,
tiny spiral shells
from the splendour of America’s oceans.
Your breasts also,
of equal fullness, overflowing
with the living light
and, yes,
winged
your eyelids of silken corn
that disclose
or enclose
the deep twin landscapes of your eyes.
The line of your back
separating you
falls away into paler regions
then surges
to the smooth hemispheres
of an apple,
and goes splitting
your loveliness
into two pillars
of burnt gold, pure alabaster,
to be lost in the twin clusters of your feet,
from which, once more, lifts and takes fire
the double tree of your symmetry:
flower of fire, open circle of candles,
swollen fruit raised
over the meeting of earth and ocean.
Your body from what substances
agate, quartz, ears of wheat,
did it flow, was it gathered,
rising like bread
in the warmth,
and signalling hills
silvered,
valleys of a single petal, sweetness
of velvet depth,
until the pure, fine, form of woman
thickened
and rested there?
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.

(By Pablo Neruda)