My Two Favorite Poems of Pablo Neruda

Growing up I didnt really appreciate poems, but as time goes by and I become older I became fascinated by it. I was more into moving arts like the cinema. People will be more attracted to visual arts. When I was growing up I was trained to excel more in Math than English or Literature. English is the medium of instruction in my country-The Philippines. In college, I enrolled in one extra subject, Literature 101 and came to appreciate poems. At the same time I also appreciate sayings, quotes etc. When I am not doing anything or sometimes watching TV, my mind would just drift off and I try to think of a poem which inspires me, then I smile. I tried hard to write my own poems at first, when I stopped trying harder, then the words would just flow and I could write poems indeed. You need to be inspired they say. Am I inspired, well most of the times, yes, sometimes no.

I like to read poems, love, political, about the nature etc. In particular, I like Pablo Neruda (Nobel Prize in Literature 1971). He was born in 1904 in Chile. I love two of his poems. I am a hopeless romantic. I hope you also appreciate them. He has lots of poem collection about love but these two are my favorites.

Clearly the first poem “If you forget me”, is about loyalty and a love which is so strong and it clearly shows that human are self centered. The poem shows a love which is practical. Practical in the sense that if somebody doesn’t love you anymore, you have to move on. The poem shows passion for a person who loves and be loved in return.

The second poem shows the intense and passion of a lover who lost his love, but at the same time, he is putting an end to all of the suffering and pain, realizing he has to move on.

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.

Saddest Poem

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

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

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

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

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.