Pablo Neruda did it again

These poems are speaking from the depths of the hearts.

They are like whispers that carry the most profound emotions and thoughts. Each line seems to be a portal through which we can enter the poet's inner world.

The words dance on the page, creating vivid images and evoking a wide range of feelings.

Some poems may be filled with joy and hope, while others might express sadness and longing.

But regardless of the emotions they convey, they all have the power to touch our souls and make us reflect on our own lives.

Through these poems, we can experience the beauty and complexity of human emotions, and gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and the world around us.

They are a testament to the power of language and the ability of poetry to connect us on a profound level.

I don't know what to say about these poems, except for how wonderful a woman Matilde must have been and how deeply Neruda loved her.

These poems seem to be a window into their passionate and intense relationship.

Neruda's words are so powerful and full of emotion that they make us feel as if we are right there with them, experiencing their love.

Matilde must have been an extraordinary person to have inspired such beautiful poetry.

We can only imagine the joy and pain that they shared, and how their love endured through the years.

These poems are a testament to the power of love and the ability of great poets to capture its essence in words.

They will continue to touch the hearts of readers for generations to come.

I crafted these sonnets from wood. I bestowed upon them the sound of that opaque and pure substance, and that is precisely how they ought to reach your ears.

Walking through forests or along beaches, beside hidden lakes, in latitudes dusted with ashes, you and I have gathered pieces of unadulterated bark, fragments of wood that have endured the ebb and flow of water and the elements.

From such softened remnants, then, armed with a hatchet, a machete, and a pocketknife, I constructed these lumber piles of love. And with fourteen boards each, I erected little houses, so that your eyes, which I revere and sing to, might dwell within them.

Now that I have proclaimed the foundations of my love, I yield this century to you: wooden sonnets that ascend only because you赋予了它们生命.

*

Whoever loved as passionately as we did? Let us search for the ancient cinders of a heart that blazed and make our kisses descend one by one, until that empty flower blossoms anew.

Let us cherish the love that devoured its fruit and sank, its image and its might, into the earth: you and I are the abiding light, its inalterable and delicate thorn.

Bring to that love, entombed by so much frigid time, by snow and spring, by oblivion and autumn, the radiance of a new apple, the luminosity of a freshness unveiled by a new wound, like that ancient love that glides in silence through an eternity of buried mouths.

This book was my introduction to Neruda's poetry. When reading his poems, it is impossible not to fall in love with the way he describes and expresses his love. Unfortunately, this book was read in digital form, but someday it will be added to my library along with all my underlinings and notes.

"I love you without knowing how, or from where, or when,
I love you simply, without problems or pride -
I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving
than this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close too."

Neruda's words have a magical charm that can touch the deepest part of our hearts. His poetry is not only about love but also about life, nature, and the human condition. Through his poems, we can see the beauty and complexity of the world around us.

I am glad that I have discovered Neruda's poetry, and I look forward to reading more of his works in the future.

I have often heard the world-renowned narrative of Neruda. However, it is only this time that I have completed (the GPU edition).

I like it. It is pleasant to read slowly while waiting for the sunset to enter the battle. Sipping warm tea and a few slices of cake. And I promise, I will give this book or read some sonnets for the Beloved. (But when can I not make a promise).

Neruda's words have a certain charm that can touch the deepest part of our hearts. His poetry is like a gentle breeze that blows through our souls, bringing us a sense of peace and tranquility.

Reading his works, we can feel his passion for life, his love for nature, and his deep affection for the people around him. It is as if we are experiencing his emotions along with him.

I believe that this book will become a precious treasure in my collection, and I look forward to sharing it with the one I love.

I feel extremely guilty about giving only four stars to this classic. It is most likely due to the poor translation, and as a result, it didn't seem like a five-star book. There are indeed some fascinating sonnets, without a doubt, but not the majority of them.

I would highly recommend that you do not read Adnan Özer's translation. It is very dry and seems forced. In fact, if possible, read it directly in English because the difference in translation quality is very obvious. However, when read carefully with different combinations, one can still derive some pleasure from it.

This classic has its charm, but the translation has unfortunately detracted from its overall impact. It makes me wonder how much more beautiful and profound it would have been if presented in a more accurate and engaging translation. Nevertheless, it is still worth exploring and trying to appreciate the essence of the work despite the shortcomings in the translation.

Vale a pena ler e sonhar que tais sentimentos um dia possam ser também sentidos por nós, já que escrevê-los não é possível com tamanha paixão e doçura.

It is truly worth reading and dreaming that such feelings might one day also be felt by us, since it is impossible to write them with such passion and sweetness.

The poem "No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego: te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras, secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma." beautifully expresses a unique kind of love.

"I do not love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as certain dark things are loved, secretly, between the shadow and the soul."

The poet continues to describe this love in a profound and mysterious way.

"Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores, y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra."

"I love you as the plant that does not bloom and carries within itself, hidden, the light of those flowers, and thanks to your love lives darkly in my body the intense aroma that rose from the earth."

This love is so pure and direct, as the poet says, "Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde, te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo: así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera."

"I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where, I love you directly without problems or pride: thus I love you because I do not know how to love in any other way."

The love is so close and intertwined that "tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía, tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño."

"so close that your hand on my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dream."

Overall, the poem is a beautiful exploration of a deep and passionate love.

II
“AMOR, quantos caminhos até chegar a um beijo,
que solidão errante até tua companhia!...”

Love, how many paths must one traverse to reach a kiss?
From the wandering solitude to your companionship!

It seems like an arduous journey, filled with uncertainties and longings.
The solitude that once haunted now gives way to the anticipation of being with you.

XI
“TENHO fome de tua boca, de tua voz, de teu pelo,
e pelas ruas vou sem nutrir-me, calado,
não me sustenta o pão, a aurora me desequilibra,
busco o som líquido de teus pés no dia...”

I am hungry for your mouth, your voice, your hair.
I walk the streets without nourishment, silent.
Bread cannot sustain me, and the dawn unbalances me.
I seek the liquid sound of your feet during the day.

My longing for you is so intense that it affects every aspect of my being.
Food loses its taste, and the beauty of the dawn fails to move me.
All I can think about is you and the sounds and sensations associated with you.

XVII
“... te amo como se amam certas coisas obscuras,
secretamente, entre a sombra e a alma.
Te amo como a planta que não floresce e leva
dentro de si, oculta, a luz daquelas flores,
e graças a teu amor vive escuro em meu corpo
o apertado aroma que ascendeu da terra...”

I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
Secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you like a plant that does not flower and carries
within itself, hidden, the light of those flowers.
And thanks to your love, there lives darkly in my body
the tight aroma that ascended from the earth.

My love for you is deep and mysterious, like the hidden essence within a plant.
It exists in the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the world.
Your love has awakened something within me, a fragrance that lingers and grows stronger with each passing day.

LXVI
“NÃO TE QUERO senão porque te quero
e de querer-te a não querer-te chego
e de esperar-te quando não te espero
passa meu coração do frio ao fogo.

I do not want you except because I want you
And from wanting you I come to not wanting you
And from waiting for you when I do not wait for you
My heart passes from cold to fire.

My feelings for you are complex and contradictory.
I want you because I truly do, yet there are times when I seem to push you away.
I wait for you even when I tell myself not to, and my heart experiences a rollercoaster of emotions, from the coldness of doubt to the heat of passion.

Te quero só porque a ti te quero,
te odeio sem-fim, e odiando-te rogo,
e a medida de meu amor viageiro
é não ver-te e amar-te como um cego...”

I want you only because I want you,
I hate you endlessly, and hating you I beg
And the measure of my wandering love
Is not to see you and love you like a blind man.

My love for you is unconditional, even when I am filled with hate.
The more I try to deny my feelings, the stronger they become.
I love you blindly, without seeing your flaws or imperfections, because in my heart, you are perfect just the way you are.

“Y cuando esté recién lavado el mundo
nacerán otros ojos en el agua
y crecerá sin lágrimas el trigo.”

The first time I read this collection in its entirety, I was truly wonderstruck by Sonnet XVI, “Amo el trozo de tierra que tú eres.” As I became able to appreciate the original Spanish version, my love for it grew even more intense, and it remains my absolute favourite. In these scary times, I felt it was high time for me to finally sit down and methodically reread all One Hundred of Neruda's love sonnets. Over the years, I had developed a habit of occasionally picking up the volume and rereading a poem or two at a time. This time around, I rediscovered many old favourites, and experienced these poems with a level of involvement that perhaps wasn't possible when I was younger.

————

- Original 2014 review/commento alla prima lettura del 2014

«Amo il pezzo di terra che tu sei,
perché delle praterie planetarie
altra stella non ho.»

One cannot help but tremble in the face of a vision of love like Neruda's: all-encompassing. In his verses, the feeling (such a reductive word when placed beside the intensity of Neruda) of love becomes overwhelming, intoxicating, conquering. It is a panic because it becomes everything: earth, sky, sea, “colomba e geografia”. And the loving reader can do nothing but close their eyes and bow.

I have been devouring poetry at an astonishing rate in the past few months. I go through phases in my life where reading poetry is more effortless than reading prose. More significantly, during these times, my life craves poetry more than it does prose. In this context, it seems rather absurd to include long passages of my dull prose to describe what Neruda accomplishes so beautifully in his poems. All I can say is that if you haven't read Neruda, or haven't read him recently, do yourself a favor and pick up this little book. Even if you have to borrow it from the library, go and sit quietly for an hour.

Love, how many times have I loved you without seeing you? Perhaps without even remembering. Not recognizing your gaze, not looking at you, a centaur in adverse regions, in a scorching midday. You were just the fragrance of the grains I love.

Maybe I saw you, I imagined you raising a glass in passing in Angol, by the light of the June moon. Or you were the waist of that guitar I played in the darkness, and it sounded like the excessive seas.

I loved you without knowing it, and I searched for your memory. In the empty houses, I entered with a lantern to steal your portrait. But I already knew what you were like. Suddenly, while you were with me, I touched you and my life stopped. Before my eyes, you were there, ruling me, and you reign. Like a bonfire in the forests, fire is your kingdom.

PS This is a lovely edition that includes paintings by Gabriela Campos.

It adds an extra layer of beauty and depth to the already enchanting words of Neruda. The combination of his poetry and Campos' paintings creates a truly immersive experience.

It's as if the paintings bring the poems to life, allowing the reader to step into the world that Neruda has created.

Whether you're a long-time lover of poetry or new to the genre, this edition is sure to captivate and inspire you.

In the preface of the book, it is mentioned that Mr. Neruda had a long journey in the formation and correction of the structures of Spanish poetry {and of course, using it as a weapon against political and social misfortunes}, and he won the Nobel Prize for it.

As for me, who is reading its Persian translation, what comes to my mind? How proficient is the translator in the Persian language and how familiar is he with the Spanish language so that he can translate the poem correctly and with historical background? It is a waste of time.

This shows the importance of accurate translation in presenting the true essence of a literary work. A good translator not only needs to have a high level of language skills in both the source and target languages but also needs to have a deep understanding of the cultural and historical background of the original work. Only in this way can the translated work convey the author's original intention and artistic conception to the readers.

Otherwise, the translation will be just a mechanical conversion of words, losing the charm and value of the original work.