Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

With some of the most beautiful poetry written in the last century, this collection is a must read.

These poems are so beautifully written I enjoy reading them again and again.

I have always been thankful that English is my first language, for I would hate to read a translated version of a Shakespeare play. Neruda (and perhaps Gabriel Garcia Marquez) is one writer that makes me wish I could read Spanish, for as amazing as his poems are in the translated English (and the are amazing), they must be pure and unabashed magic in their original language. Neruda is able to write on emotions that we occassionaly feel, and often long about, but can seldom work into spoken (yet alone written) words. By far, my favorite in this book of poems is Number 20, which has come to be known as "Tonight I Can Write..." Only after losing the love that I thought would last forever did the words "Love is so short, forgetting so long" sincerely ring true. Neruda's poems in general are amazing, and his ability to capture human emotions is remarkable.

I don’t know if I’m just blind but I can’t find the song of despair anywhere. No good

Neruda's words flows effortlessly, bathing you in a stream of sensations. Absolutely erotic and delicious to read, you find his Spanish original and the translated version next to each other. His poetry tangles love with nature, hinting at everything to the core of his emotions. You can feel the love for a woman you will never know, his despair that resonates with your soul.One of my favorite poets, each line of his poetry is highly quotable and can be used as a reference to an emotion that you weren't even aware that you had. It's a small book with just a few select poetry, but boy, it makes you crave for much more while being utterly satisfied at the same time.As a parting gift, I give you, my favorite poem:Tonight I Can WriteTonight I can write the saddest lines.Write, for example,"The night is starry and the stars are blue and 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 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 starry 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 tries to find her as though to bring her closer.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. As she was before my kisses.Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite 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 armsmy soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.Though this is the last pain that she makes me sufferand these the last verses that I write for her.