Here I Love You

“Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.
The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there. 
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.” 
― Pablo NerudaTwenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

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Ode To the Sea

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HERE
Surrounding the island 
There’s sea.
But what sea? 
It’s always overflowing. 
Says yes, 
Then no, 
Then no again,
And no, 
Says yes 
In blue 
In sea spray
Raging, 
Says no 
And no again. 
It can’t be still.
It stammers 
My name is sea. 

It slaps the rocks 
And when they aren’t convinced, 
Strokes them 
And soaks them 
And smothers them with kisses. 
With seven green tongues 
Of seven green dogs 
Or seven green tigers 
Or seven green seas,
Beating its chest,
Stammering its name, 

Oh Sea, 
This is your name. 
Oh comrade ocean, 
Don’t waste time 
Or water 
Getting so upset 
Help us instead. 
We are meager fishermen, 
Men from the shore 
Who are hungry and cold 
And you’re our foe.
Don’t beat so hard, 
Don’t shout so loud, 
Open your green coffers, 
Place gifts of silver in our hands.
Give us this day 
our daily fish.

-Pablo Neruda

Neruda

In My Sky At Twilight

In my sky at twilight you are like a cloud

and your form and color are the way I love them.

You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips

and in your life your infinite dreams live.

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,

the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,

oh reaper of my evening song,

how solitary dreams believe you to be mine

You are mine, mine, I go shouting in the afternoon’s

wind, and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.

Huntress of the depth of my eyes, your plunder

stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water

You are taken in the net of my music, my love,

and my nets of music are wide as the sky.

My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.

In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begin.

-Pablo Neruda

Coffee and Neruda this afternoon….

Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.
The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.

Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

-Pablo Neruda