She has forgotten me, and soon I will forget her too. My loving branches were not strong enough to hang her swing. My little leaves like kisses, could not cover her in a cool, comfortable shade. She is gone, but each day the sun rises. Each day I tow my frail and withered trunk to the richness of the sun. It’s golden fingers saturate my soul with the nectar of vitality and strength. The winter winds may come, and I may shed my leaves as tears of heartbreak. But one day, she or someone else will be able to laugh and play at the stoop of this solemn frame. They will enjoy the tender fruits of my hardships. But until then, she is gone. One day I will be ready. Just a little something from my broken heart. I hope someone can enjoy it.
My love feeds on your love my beloved.... This is a passionate and wonderful poem that describes the way that love is an ongoing mutual transaction to nourish and meet each other's desire to keep working to make each other feel satisfied, needed, comfortable and happier together than alone.
Passionate love is the highlight of being alive. Companionate, altruistic and familial bonds are very satisfying. Being willing to be vulnerable, open and intimate is one of life's greatest gifts. We remember those we love deeply and passionately, who are willing to be raw and truly open themselves much more than casual flings.
This is one of my favorite Pablo Neruda’s poems. Thank you and God bless ✝️❤️ Nothing is extinguished or forgotten. My love feeds on your love, that’s true love.
This poem sums up what it feels like living with BPD, so much love to give if you only accept it but as soon as you even feel like rejecting me I have rejected you first. Very difficult to live with but always passionate for good or bad
Every time...every time, this poem gets to me. Magical words taking you on a journey ... One day i'll find you. Until that day, i'll keep on reading magical words that enthral the mind, enrich the soul and mend the heart.
This is amazing. The ability of some people to use words to paint vivid pictures in our minds, or stir intense emotions, is something I do not have a talent for. I am, therefore, very grateful for people with such skills, such as Mr Neruda and, as in this case, the person who read this so well.
Lovely poem and a truly amazing reading! The voice, pauses, intonations. Wow! Just perfect! Now I want his narration for everything! Going to look for more! He’s up there with Morgan Freeman!
When you read a poem yourself , you read it with a certain tune. When you hear someone else read it , it never matches your tone and always falls short. Dave luukkonen's reading of this poem however surpasses any version of it in my memory. I guess as far as this poem is concerned this will be the only memory of it.
If you forget me I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine.
I had Poetry in Spanish class; middle school years. Even though I had other favorites poets, I still remember some of his work. "No culpes a nadie" (Don't blame anyone), was one that got me hooked.
I would just like to say how beautiful I have found all of the selections below - each and every one came from deep within them. I think it’s so nice that all of these people were able to share these with all of us. A very big thank you to all who shared their “ inner beauty”!
Yall he wrote this to his lover not his wife, and also, its conditional love not unconditional why would yall want anyone to love you like this?" If you forget me i would have already forgotten you "
It's not about who he wrote it to, when or why. Poems are great because every person will find a different meaning in them. Fine, you might want to seek the authors meaning and reasoning, but trust me that it is better to seek your own meaning and attach that to your own story.
You must be made of stone or never loved or been lived if this didn’t touch you on a deep level . I was shocked ti find myself crying my eyes out. Perhaps im more heartbroken than i realised.
Neruda obviously never agreed with Shakespeare: Love is not love if alters when it alteration finds. Having truly, madly, deeply loved and thinking I'd put it all behind me. One day, I woke up and saw how I had deceived myself all these years. There she was. In my heart of hearts after all with an unaltered sense of oneness in the soul beyond time and space. I was, in fact, relieved to find out that I have always loved her, still love her and now realize, I always shall...like no other. I now look back on all the ridiculousness of my pursuits without her and it is not a life wasted having finally seen that I could be nothing without her. Strangely, this comforts me and the anguish, though poignant again as if it were yesterday, is somehow sweet in its bitterness. Bill was right. Pablo was wrong.
I think Pablo's understanding is more mature. His style of love is a REFLECTION of the other person's love. Women fall out of love with you if you love them like Bill suggests. But they love you if you reflect STRENGTH and their own shallow form of love in their face.
How could poetry be right or wrong? How could the perception of a human which cascades with the myriad experiences of the soul, and the myriad souls which alters experience? Poetry is not right. Poetry is not wrong. Poetry is God unending and finding you in words, limiting and fragile
I was once very ill, and lay in hospital, when my 8 year old daughter insisted, unbeknownst to me, to her guardian that she needed to go out immediately to buy me a “single, young rose-bud” - that very day. She had feared I might die before she could give it to me. He took her to three different flower shops before she found what she said she had to have, turning many other flower suggestions down. Even as ill as I was, I was so overcome by her tender loving gift when she held it out to me. As I looked into her eyes, I saw her heart break as I realized she really thought I might die. Later that night, I was still thinking of how worried she must feel, and I wanted somehow to write my feelings down to reflect on the emotional trauma we both had experienced, so I wrote these words, that almost tripped out of my thoughts, and I called it: THE TRUE BEAUTY OF A ROSE…. @. Lynn Robinson 1983 The true beauty of a rose shared with another, has very little to do with its scent or its colour. But a rarer beauty still, that flows like a river, can be found in the love, in the heart of the giver. And later when I was home again, I gave it to her as my gift back to her. Much, much later, I was persuaded to enter it into a contest, and it ended up winning, and eventually published in a British anthology collection. I hope you don’t mind that I have shared this with you. I’ve never really thought of it as anything really “professional”, but it just seemed to really help both of us show how much we loved each other., and we each reached out to show it in our own ways. Thank you.
Thank you so very much. Writing is not something I feel I ever “chose”. It seemed to be something that chose me: and it did so at a very young age. I will be involved doing something, just anything, and suddenly, words start to come to me…….and they will not stop “bothering” me until I sit down and write whatever it is that my soul itself seems to be requiring at that moment. Yes, they are always things that I feel very strongly about, but I am almost always writing “ feelings” down, one way or another : mine or others, they “ tip-toe through my mind”, begging to be acknowledged. I keep a gardening journal, I keep a daily journal, and I have often been asked to write things for others - everything from love poems for Valentines, to pieces for others to reflect on someone they loved very much, but who has passed, and even pieces for others to help them express someone else’s achievements in life. I have written stories from my own growing up, and I’m writing a book based on real life tragedies that took place in my own family from the late 1800’s. I must admit that writing “ feeds my soul” and I find it very rewarding. @@jeanhopman5659
If little by little you stop loving me. I'm forgetting what love is like in a world filled with negativity. I just keep my light alive while I think others have lost there's
This poem will now forever have a special place in my heart. I always loved Pablo’s poetry. He is one of my favorite poets. I disagreed with his political views but love his poetry. A dear friend once shared part of this poem with me. He had no idea I’m a big fan of Pablo Neruda’s poems. So, it meant a lot to me. Perhaps, more than he’ll ever know. True love never forgets. ❤️✝️❤️
please don't ever give up on me. I did not what I wanted to do, because of so many other things.. wish I had a second chance to prove.. I miss you, and I think every day about these mistakes I made
She has forgotten me, and soon I will forget her too.
My loving branches were not strong enough to hang her swing.
My little leaves like kisses, could not cover her in a cool, comfortable shade.
She is gone, but each day the sun rises.
Each day I tow my frail and withered trunk to the richness of the sun.
It’s golden fingers saturate my soul with the nectar of vitality and strength.
The winter winds may come, and I may shed my leaves as tears of heartbreak.
But one day, she or someone else will be able to laugh and play at the stoop of this solemn frame.
They will enjoy the tender fruits of my hardships.
But until then, she is gone.
One day I will be ready.
Just a little something from my broken heart. I hope someone can enjoy it.
Fucking beautiful man
beautiful
Im screenshoting this so it can stay on my phone forever. So i may always look back at it and smile
well writtern
astounding ...
Please give the man who read this poem a huge credit, what a voice!
Indeed
It’s in the description
I find it delighting to make breakfast and coffee starting my day with these porms, everyday i pick up a new concept of meaning from them
You might also enjoy these poems from Pablo Neruda and the movie „Il Postino“ th-cam.com/play/PLEsVRWgXiB4OtkJXMiV3I94fHK0mZltBu.html ❤
I would say it's a system that changes your voice.
This is a tragic love poem. The poet understands the fickle nature of romantic love and is a realist.
Ive never experience crying at a poem before, yet here we are.
I love everything about this poem. ❤️✝️❤️
Absolutely breathtaking....the one who read it should be thanked many times
Please, give to Pablo Neruda the Oscar of the poem…if it exists.
Neruda got Nobel, probably in 1972, for his poem.
Who could ever forget someone who expresses his love so sweetly?
Wouldn't it be wonderful to be so loved 😔 ( ahhh *deep sigh )
This is the only kind of love that will never break… it will just lovingly fade away… this poem is a reminder life’s impermanence.
Wow!! I want to love and be loved just like that!! Breathtaking!!
Neruda was my ex's favorite poet. These are touching something in me I wish didn't hurt anymore.
You should move on
Beautifully put. 'Amanda
I love Pablo Neruda's surrealistic style of poetry. This poem is beautiful. 💖
Really beautiful!
I will remember this poem,,,,👍
My love feeds on your love my beloved.... This is a passionate and wonderful poem that describes the way that love is an ongoing mutual transaction to nourish and meet each other's desire to keep working to make each other feel satisfied, needed, comfortable and happier together than alone.
Heartbreaking
like the leaves that fall spontaneously from every branch and can no longer cover the winter, the wind that comes to touch and will go.
No one of us we'll never forget this velvet voice of the narrator! ❤
Stop your world of activities and actions and let this flow thru your being, your heart, your life. These are insights from a master teacher.
Passionate love is the highlight of being alive. Companionate, altruistic and familial bonds are very satisfying. Being willing to be vulnerable, open and intimate is one of life's greatest gifts. We remember those we love deeply and passionately, who are willing to be raw and truly open themselves much more than casual flings.
Truly one of the greats.
I adore this Poem.i would like to send it to my ❤Love❤!
Love to whoever recited the poem. Please upload more poems recited by him. He brings poems to life ❤
A bond that can never be broken can only truly be broken in one way , when the other person forgets you ….
This is one of my favorite Pablo Neruda’s poems. Thank you and God bless ✝️❤️ Nothing is extinguished or forgotten. My love feeds on your love, that’s true love.
My favourite poem ….my favourite poet …i adore his work
3:06 and how deeply it touches me --- almost unearthly beautiful lines ! ! !
Thanks for posting this brilliant work of art.
Thanks for listening. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
One of the Most beautiful poems❤❤❤
You’re very talented.. your voice combination with Neruda is everything
In love with this beautiful poem and his voice.
I was in his house in Valpariso. The view from his bedroom struck me. Then his little personal bar in the back room. Really inspirational
This poem sums up what it feels like living with BPD, so much love to give if you only accept it but as soon as you even feel like rejecting me I have rejected you first. Very difficult to live with but always passionate for good or bad
Every time...every time, this poem gets to me. Magical words taking you on a journey ...
One day i'll find you. Until that day, i'll keep on reading magical words that enthral the mind, enrich the soul and mend the heart.
This poem it's like a personal handwritten letter to his love that he shared with us.
This is amazing. The ability of some people to use words to paint vivid pictures in our minds, or stir intense emotions, is something I do not have a talent for. I am, therefore, very grateful for people with such skills, such as Mr Neruda and, as in this case, the person who read this so well.
"Everything carries me to you" yes ...Everything 😊
Wow ! This hits the heart 😢
Lovely poem and a truly amazing reading! The voice, pauses, intonations. Wow! Just perfect! Now I want his narration for everything! Going to look for more! He’s up there with Morgan Freeman!
When you read a poem yourself , you read it with a certain tune. When you hear someone else read it , it never matches your tone and always falls short. Dave luukkonen's reading of this poem however surpasses any version of it in my memory. I guess as far as this poem is concerned this will be the only memory of it.
This poem is the only things that calm me down, I love this poem so much
If you forget me
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
I had Poetry in Spanish class; middle school years. Even though I had other favorites poets, I still remember some of his work. "No culpes a nadie" (Don't blame anyone), was one that got me hooked.
I would just like to say how beautiful I have found all of the selections below - each and every one came from deep within them. I think it’s so nice that all of these people were able to share these with all of us. A very big thank you to all who shared their “ inner beauty”!
This poem touched my heart 💗made my day 😍
Love this poem!❤
I have loved his poetry for years and his books are here on my shelves.
Vickie his books are not on your shelves, his heart an soul are.
Beautifully expressed.❤
Thanks for listening.
Beautifully read and beautiful poem.
Yall he wrote this to his lover not his wife, and also, its conditional love not unconditional why would yall want anyone to love you like this?" If you forget me i would have already forgotten you "
It's not about who he wrote it to, when or why. Poems are great because every person will find a different meaning in them. Fine, you might want to seek the authors meaning and reasoning, but trust me that it is better to seek your own meaning and attach that to your own story.
Little by Little
Because sometimes love isn’t enough.
Wonderful metaphors and message of how to love without getting walked on. Not a single simping leaf on that tree!
You must be made of stone or never loved or been lived if this didn’t touch you on a deep level . I was shocked ti find myself crying my eyes out. Perhaps im more heartbroken than i realised.
Neruda obviously never agreed with Shakespeare: Love is not love if alters when it alteration finds. Having truly, madly, deeply loved and thinking I'd put it all behind me. One day, I woke up and saw how I had deceived myself all these years. There she was. In my heart of hearts after all with an unaltered sense of oneness in the soul beyond time and space. I was, in fact, relieved to find out that I have always loved her, still love her and now realize, I always shall...like no other. I now look back on all the ridiculousness of my pursuits without her and it is not a life wasted having finally seen that I could be nothing without her. Strangely, this comforts me and the anguish, though poignant again as if it were yesterday, is somehow sweet in its bitterness. Bill was right. Pablo was wrong.
I think Pablo's understanding is more mature. His style of love is a REFLECTION of the other person's love.
Women fall out of love with you if you love them like Bill suggests.
But they love you if you reflect STRENGTH and their own shallow form of love in their face.
How could poetry be right or wrong? How could the perception of a human which cascades with the myriad experiences of the soul, and the myriad souls which alters experience? Poetry is not right. Poetry is not wrong. Poetry is God unending and finding you in words, limiting and fragile
Read between the lines and you’ll understand. ✝️
Neruda keeps you focused!!!
2:01
This is such a mature and healthy poem. I love it a lot ❤️
I do agree with you!
Officially melted. Sublime. ❤
Wow!!!! Neruda’s words !!!! Also what a great voice and talent you have 🎉
What a beautiful surreal poem! The velvet voice of the reader is just amazing! ❤️
The voice along with the words melted my heart ♥️
I was once very ill, and lay in hospital, when my 8 year old daughter insisted, unbeknownst to me, to her guardian that she needed to go out immediately to buy me a “single, young rose-bud” - that very day. She had feared I might die before she could give it to me. He took her to three different flower shops before she found what she said she had to have, turning many other flower suggestions down.
Even as ill as I was, I was so overcome by her tender loving gift when she held it out to me. As I looked into her eyes, I saw her heart break as I realized she really thought I might die. Later that night, I was still thinking of how worried she must feel, and I wanted somehow to write my feelings down to reflect on the emotional trauma we both had experienced, so I wrote these words, that almost tripped out of my thoughts, and I called it:
THE TRUE BEAUTY OF A ROSE…. @. Lynn Robinson 1983
The true beauty of a rose
shared with another,
has very little to do
with its scent or its colour.
But a rarer beauty still,
that flows like a river,
can be found in the love,
in the heart of the giver.
And later when I was home again, I gave it to her as my gift back to her. Much, much later, I was persuaded to enter it into a contest, and it ended up winning, and eventually published in a British anthology collection. I hope you don’t mind that I have shared this with you. I’ve never really thought of it as anything really “professional”, but it just seemed to really help both of us show how much we loved each other., and we each reached out to show it in our own ways. Thank you.
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing that.
I like your poem far more x
Thank you so very much. Writing is not something I feel I ever “chose”. It seemed to be something that chose me: and it did so at a very young age. I will be involved doing something, just anything, and suddenly, words start to come to me…….and they will not stop “bothering” me until I sit down and write whatever it is that my soul itself seems to be requiring at that moment. Yes, they are always things that I feel very strongly about, but I am almost always writing “ feelings” down, one way or another : mine or others, they “ tip-toe through my mind”, begging to be acknowledged.
I keep a gardening journal, I keep a daily journal, and I have often been asked to write things for others - everything from love poems for Valentines, to pieces for others to reflect on someone they loved very much, but who has passed, and even pieces for others to help them express someone else’s achievements in life. I have written stories from my own growing up, and I’m writing a book based on real life tragedies that took place in my own family from the late 1800’s. I must admit that writing “ feeds my soul” and I find it very rewarding. @@jeanhopman5659
Thank you...❤
❤
Most beautiful poem!
If little by little you stop loving me.
I'm forgetting what love is like in a world filled with negativity.
I just keep my light alive while I think others have lost there's
Such a distinct style of expression. Loved it.
Thank you!
Wonderful poem, wonderful narration
This poem will now forever have a special place in my heart. I always loved Pablo’s poetry. He is one of my favorite poets. I disagreed with his political views but love his poetry. A dear friend once shared part of this poem with me. He had no idea I’m a big fan of Pablo Neruda’s poems. So, it meant a lot to me. Perhaps, more than he’ll ever know. True love never forgets. ❤️✝️❤️
Love from Kerala (India )❤
please don't ever give up on me. I did not what I wanted to do, because of so many other things.. wish I had a second chance to prove.. I miss you, and I think every day about these mistakes I made
One of my favorite poems 💚
Love this poem for the way he makes love an experience and journey to make both partners feel more alive and content in their union.
Beautiful on so many levels. Great job 👏
Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.
Thank you. Beautiful words!!
Lovely voice for a beautiful poem
it's a sad realization to know that i've already been forgotten 😢
Nina I will not forget you.
To the forgotten ones❤
Most profoundly and beautifully stated ❤ Wow.
Thank you so very much -
For the poetry and translation.
Thanks for listening.
Excellent vocals! Supremely engaging. Beautiful poem. Can't wait to hear it again. 😊
Glad you enjoyed it. Thank you.
Wonderful, thank you
Thank you too!
Peace & Bliss and Thank You🍀
My absolute favorite poem!!💝🤗💝
Bello poema , bella voz , gracias ❤
Never knew Pablo Neruda's writing before the other day 😮
Ohh goshhh! never never heard such an amazing poem before......♥♥
such a beautiful poem
Beautiful thank you
Thank you too!
Beautiful.
God bless you 🌹 good night beautiful angels ❤❤my favorite for decades in my night time 💋
“ My roots will set off to seek another land “
Love this poem, letter by letter
what a wonderful poem
Beautiful 🥺
So crushingly haunting.
Sublime ❤️ Envoûtant..waww.. Thank you 🌹🌹
Perfect!!! Love feeds love ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you!
You're welcome!
No comment. You wouldn't like it. But you're right about that voice.
It's a poem I keep coming back to unknowingly and fall 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝔂 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮.
What a poem!❤😢
so very moving..!!
Bellissima poesia!
*gorgeous* ❤️
Crikey. Beautiful work.
Beautiful thanks
You're welcome. Thank you.
💕 nice, love this poem...💕
Thanks for listening.
Wow, that was great.
Thank you for sharing this lovely reading! God Bless You!
You're welcome. Thank you!
Mind blowing...