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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


Pablo Neruda



I love this Poem, though we read in Spanish and it sounds different and it has another meaning for us!

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- Poema 20 -


Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.




Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche esta estrellada,


y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos".




El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.




Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.


Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.




En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.


La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.




Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.


Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.




Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.


Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.




Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.


Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.




Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.


La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.




Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.


Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.




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 esta 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.




Well that's the original version, and well I guess he is a bit too corny but it just happend I like his poems! [though I don't like much poetry]

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Do you have a Spanish translation available? Everything I've read from Pablo Neruda has been great!


ah yes, Of course! You just need to ask which poem, and which lenguage do you want it, and I'll have [probably] There is so much material about him! [especially here]

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yesh, but most people here speak English instead of Spanish. It's well tranlated in words, like it means the same but it seems that we have different ussages in the puntuactions and so, and I think that's really what makes it different. I also think it wasn't meant to be read in Spanish; Neruda wrote for everyone not just for Spanish-speakers

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Well, I'm not really into poetry myself but I do enjoy writing it. Here's a poem I wrote last night:


Let me find a way to wash away the tears

Help me find away to brush away my fears

Let me know what's really true

Help me find a way to get back to you


Let me go but promise to let me stay

I might as well just choose a different way

Help me find some place to hide

It feels so strange to hang by your side


Let me find my brand new self

Because right now this is really all I have

Let me know what's wrong in what I do

Help me find a way to forget all about you


Another poem I wrote not long ago:


There's still a little bit of you left

I can still see your eyes in the dark

Whenever I close my eyes you're there

You smile at me

And I smile back

I know how you feel

I can see the pain in your eyes

I can see everything no one else can

Ask me how I know about your lonely nights

Crying for help in the dark

Looking for someone to hold

Someone to understand, someone to love

Ask me how I know that?

I may not know you that well

But I know just enough

You're different from the rest

And I could tell it from the start

You hate the world just like me

Yet you smile to the world

And pray they won't see

Still - I can

I can see through you...

But can you see through me?


And another one, I think I posted it here awhile ago.. can't remember.


What's the use in crying

When the tears taste bitterer

Than you actually feel?


What's the use in trying

When all you want to do

Is run off and disappear?


What's the use in breathing

When every breath of air

Makes you feel so small?


There's no use in dying

But what's the use

In living at all?

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very nice love all three.


heres a few of mine.


not since the everlasting breath,

has this soul felt the bitter taste.

but at a point where all senses are dulled,

i wonder if this is to be my final fate.

a lost shadow,

with no shade left to give.

a rootless tree,

with no life left to live.

although the days are spent,

a porpuse yet remains.

a dreamers dream,

these dreams to attain.


one more


waiting, detesting the test of life.

confused in a static filled world,

where nothing ever seems right.

im lost along the way, without the map.

hidden trails, broken railroads,

have you not seen your shares come and pass?

i remember you telling me stories.

remember you sharing your worries?

lets throw all those troubles away,

get rid of those troubles today,

replace all the pain in this place.

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I never really write poetry, but I'm good at rhyming, I was once told that I seemed like a very poetic person it took it as a very good compliment :nice:


I like "Prayer in the Pentagon", but I like Dave Matthew's version of it better in Typical Situation so...


10 fingers counting we have each

9 planets around the sun repeat

8 ball last if you triumphant be

7 oceans pummel the shores of the sea

6 senses feeling

5 around a sense of self

4 seasons turn on, turn off

I can see 3 corners from this corner

2 is a perfect number, but

1, well everybody's happy, everybody's free, we'll keep the big door open, everyone'll come around, why're you different? Why are you that way? If you don't get in line we'll lock you away.


Of course it goes into the whole song, I just posted a little bit of it.

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i used to be a 'poem' guy in high school, not since then. :/


but i remember always enjoying poems of Robert Frost, Longfellow, Emily Dickinson, (that guy who was a doctor, actually...what'shisname?), and a few others. Langston Hughes...was he a poet or a writer?

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