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4.04 AVERAGE
4.04 AVERAGE
emotional
reflective
sad
medium-paced
emotional
reflective
sad
fast-paced
Me pareció un libro muy profundo, tiene emociones intensas y con un lenguaje poético que te envuelve. Aunque fue escrito cuando el autor tenía apenas 19 años, la madurez emocional que transmite es impresionante.
El libro tiene veinte poemas que giran en torno al amor, el deseo, la pérdida y la melancolía. A lo largo de los textos, el escritor describe a una figura femenina que a veces parece concreta y otras veces se diluye en el recuerdo o el dolor. Lo que más me llamó la atención fue cómo Neruda utiliza la naturaleza para expresar sensaciones profundas.
En general, el estilo me pareció accesible, aunque lleno de imágenes muy poderosas. No es una poesía complicada, pero sí muy emocional. El libro me hizo pensar en cómo el amor no siempre es idealizado, sino que también puede doler, consumir y dejar un vacío difícil de llenar.
Recomendaría este libro a cualquiera que quiera leer sobre el amor desde una perspectiva intensa, sincera y profundamente humana.
Nice and deep thought. Too too many years ahead of his time yet deep .
Como poemario lo he disfrutado. Corto y al punto, me ha mantenido en un estado casi de tristeza y ansiedad, con sus símiles y comparaciones tan bonitos y con tanta fuerza. Casi todos los poemas tienen al menos un verso muy potente que apunté. Me alegro de haberlo leído, había versos que ya conocía por cultura popular y es muy interesante verlos en su contexto original.
emotional
medium-paced
fast-paced
"Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too." — Pablo Neruda
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too." — Pablo Neruda
<< … te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma. >>
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma. >>
Fue un buen libro para empezar con la poesía. Dado a que no estoy acostumbrada a leer este tipo de escritura, no se convierte en uno de mi libros súper favoritos, pero reconozco que es un buen libro, muchos versos me gustaron muchísimo; espero familiarizarme más con este tipo de lecturas!
3,5 stars.
Vuelvo a repetir, no es por el libro que sea malo o algo, es solo que ¡no estoy acostumbrada!. Espero en unos años volverlo a leer y ¡que me guste mucho más!.
3,5 stars.
Vuelvo a repetir, no es por el libro que sea malo o algo, es solo que ¡no estoy acostumbrada!. Espero en unos años volverlo a leer y ¡que me guste mucho más!.
These were some of the most beautiful, emotionally moving poems I have ever read. The feelings he was able to articulate through his visual imagery resonated strongly with me. I enjoyed reading them in the original Spanish versions along with the translations. While they made me melancholy, they also liberated me. My favorite was the last love poem before the song of despair. This is the one I read again and again.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.