Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda - Sciences, Education, Art, Writing, UFO - Posted: 27th Apr, 2013 - 6:22pm

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Post Date: 8th Apr, 2013 - 1:30pm / Post ID: #

Pablo Neruda

Book News: Chile Prepares To Exhume Pablo Neruda's Remains

The body of Chilean poet Pablo Neruda to be exhumed Monday morning. He died days after the 1973 coup that killed his friend President Salvador Allende and ushered Gen. Augusto Pinochet to power. Neruda's driver alleges the poet was murdered by the Pinochet regime. In February, a court his remains to be exhumed and examined for signs of poisoning, and preparations began Sunday at Neruda's tomb on the Chilean coast.
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27th Apr, 2013 - 6:22pm / Post ID: #

Neruda Pablo

Pablo Neruda was an EXCELLENT writer. I recall his famous poem "Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche" (I can write the saddest lines tonight). It was one of my favorites. The translation in English:

international QUOTE
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is shattered,
And the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, and sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes?

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost
Her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without
Her, and the verse falls to the snow like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.

That night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the
Distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.

We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that is certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes,
I no longer love her, that is certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my
Arms my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer,
And these the last verses that I write for her.




 
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