Pablo Neruda

[Lucent Beam]

I love his poems. And then I also love reading different translations.
Here's my favorite in Spanish, along with one translation.
The rest are English translations only.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: 'La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.'

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oir la noche inmensa, más inmnesa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guadarla.
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

Originally Posted by Translation

I could write the very saddest verses tonight
Writing, for example "The night is sprinkled
With stars sparkling blue, far away."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I could write the very saddest verses tonight
I loved her and at times she also loved me.

On nights like this I had her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, at times I also loved her.
How could I not love her big staring eyes?

I could write the very saddest verses tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, even more immense without her.
And the verses fall on the soul like dew on the pasture.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her?
The night is full of stars and she's not with me.

That's all. Far off someone is singing. Far off
My love is not used to having lost her.

How my glance looks for her to get close to her.
My heart looks for her and she's not with me.

The same night that turns the same trees white.
We aren't now the same way we were then.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but perhaps I love her.
My voice searched on the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's, she's someone else's. Like before I kissed her.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love lasts so short and forgetting takes so long.

But on nights like this I had her in my arms.
My heart is not used to having lost her.

Although this may be the last pain that she causes me
And these may be the last verses that I write her.

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

[Nate]

Yeah, I remember delving into his poems when I was a junior in high school. We watched a movie that he was in but i forgot the name. But yeah hes a good poet.

[BecomeAnHero]

wow i won't deny, those are beautiful poems