Friday, April 26, 2013


Today we're just going to appreciate some beautiful words, written in Spanish.  I'm going to cheat a little bit, though:  the author of these words is Pablo Neruda, who is from Chile.  So he's not Spanish.  But I wanted to share these verses because they're some of my favorite ever written, in any language.  Really this poem doesn't have anything to do with Spain, except that I read it for the first time here.  Anyway, I think it's important, too, to learn to appreciate works in other languages :)  (I'll also be practicing my translation skills!)

Excerpt from Poema 20 by Pablo Neruda (Spanish)

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

De otro.  Será de otro.  Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro.  Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.

Excerpt from Poema 20 by Pablo Neruda (English)

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, the ones of then, are not the same.

I no longer love her, it's true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched for the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's.  She will be another's.  Like before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body.  Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, it's true, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms.
My soul is not content having lost her.

Even though this is the last pain she'll cause me,
And these are the last verses I'll write her.

Unfortunately, English doesn't do the poem justice.  It's gorgeous in Spanish :)


  1. Emotion packed words. Thanks for sharing.

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  3. It's a lovely poem of loss. Appreciation isn't always given at the right time or for the right reasons. The march of years can also 'taint' memories in a nice way.Nancy at Welcome to she said, he said