I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; So I love you because I know no … - Pablo Neruda

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I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; So I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

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About Pablo Neruda

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).

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Nieh-lu-ta • Pamplo Nerouda • Neftalí Ricardo Reyes • Bāblū Nīrūdā • Neftalí Ricardo Reyes Basoalto • Nieluda • Neftali Ricardo Reyes Basoalto • Neftali Reyes Basualto • Neftali Reyes Basoalto • Neftali Ricardo Reyes • Neftalí Reyes Basualto • Pāplō Nerūda • Neftalí Reyespeneto
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Shorter versions of this quote

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving.
100 Love Sonnets · 1986 Verified in 1 source Sign up to see the complete provenance
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Originators like Pablo Neruda:
Federico García Lorca Rumi Leonard Cohen Sara Teasdale Edna St. Vincent Millay

Additional quotes by Pablo Neruda

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?
The Book of Questions · April 1, 2001 Verified in 1 source Sign up to see the complete provenance
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How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.
Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair · December 26, 2006 Verified in 1 source Sign up to see the complete provenance
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