Chilean poet and politician (1904-1973)
Pablo Neruda (born Ricardo Eliécer Neftalí Reyes Basoalto; 12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973) 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).
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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.
There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song - but in this dance or in this song there are fulfilled the most ancient rites of our conscience in the awareness of being human and of believing in a common destiny.
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به آرامی آغاز به مردن میكنی
اگر سفر نكنی
اگر كتابی نخوانی
اگر به اصوات زندگی گوش ندهی
اگر از خودت قدردانی نكنی
به آرامی آغاز به مردن میكنی
زماني كه خودباوري را در خودت بكشی
وقتي نگذاري ديگران به تو كمك كنند
به آرامي آغاز به مردن میكنی
اگر بردهی عادات خود شوی
اگرهميشه از يك راه تكراری بروی
اگر روزمرّگی را تغيير ندهی
اگر رنگهای متفاوت به تن نكنی
يا اگر با افراد ناشناس صحبت نكنی
تو به آرامی آغاز به مردن میكنی
اگر از شور و حرارت
از احساسات سركش
و از چيزهايی كه چشمانت را به درخشش وامیدارند
و ضربان قلبت را تندتر ميكنند
دوری كنی
تو به آرامی آغاز به مردن میكنی
اگر هنگامی كه با شغلت، يا عشقت شاد نيستی، آن را عوض نكنی
اگر برای مطمئن در نامطمئن خطر نكنی
اگر ورای روياها نروی
اگر به خودت اجازه ندهی
كه حداقل يك بار در تمام زندگيات
ورای مصلحتانديشی بروی
امروز زندگی را آغاز كن
امروز مخاطره كن
امروز كاری كن
¿Sabes que en las calles no hay nadie
y adentro de las casas tampoco? Sólo hay ojos en las ventanas.
Si no tienes dònde dormir
toca una puerta y te abrirán,
te abrirán hasta cierto punto
y verás que hace frío adentro,
que aquella casa está vacía,
y no quiere nada contigo,
no valen nada tus historias,
y si insistes con tu ternura
te muerden el perro y el gato.
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.
Of everything I have seen,
it's you I want to go on seeing:
of everything I've touched,
it's your flesh I want to go on touching.
I love your orange laughter.
I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.
What am I to do, love, loved one?
I don't know how others love
or how people loved in the past.
I live, watching you, loving you.
Being in love is my nature.