By Abbey Villasis
Pablo Neruda and Matilde Urrutia, 1968. Photo: Evandro Texeira/Acervo IMS.
With the fast approach of Valentine’s Day comes a resurgence of love and all things related into our lives, including romantic poetry. The poetry of Pablo Neruda is regarded as one of the best of the twentieth century. Born in Chile, Neruda published his first work, Enthusiasm and Perseverance (1917), at the age of 13 in the local Latin American newspaper La Mañana.
Love Poems is a book charged with sensuality and passion, clearly written as a tribute to Neruda’s lover and third wife, Matilde Urrutia. Despite being married three times, Urrutia was considered the love of Neruda’s life. According to a post by Southern Explorations, “Born in the same region of Chile, she shared common roots, though not his interest in politics or literature. Eight years his junior, Matilde had left her provincial home to become a singer and actress, career ambitions that ended when she entered Neruda’s realm. They became serious at the start of Neruda’s years of exile in Europe.”
Although the poet himself is not without controversy, the three poems that have been selected are meant as an introduction to those unfamiliar with the rhythm and language of Spanish poetry. In other words, they showcase how poets from this part of the world intertwine their world views with the feelings they possess toward their beloved, ultimately creating a sensational work of rhythmical composition.
To heighten the experience of reading such romantic poetry from this unique part of the world, I must add that as I was typing out these poems one Saturday morning, I was listening to Julio Iglesias’s Greatest Hits—which I cannot recommend enough to be listened to, either during the reading of these poems or shortly soon after, in order to fully capture the voice and essence of love in Latin America.
All poems translated by Donald D. Walsh.
The Queen
I have named you queen.
There are taller ones than you. taller.
There are purer ones than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
But you are the queen.
When you go through the streets
no one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
at the carpet of red gold
that you tread as you pass,
the nonexistent carpet.
And when you appear
all the rivers sound
in my body bells, bells
shake the sky,
and a hymn fills the world.
Only you and I,
only you and I, my love,
listen to it.
La Reina
Yo te he nombrado reina.
Hay más altas que tú, más altas.
Hay más puras que tú, más puras.
Hay más bellas que tú, hay más bellas.
Pero tú eres la reina.
Cuando vas por las calles
nadie te reconoce.
Nadie ve tu corona de cristal, nadie mira
la alfombra de oro rojo
que pisas cuando pasas,
la alfombra que no existe.
Y cuando asomas
suenan todos los ríos
en mi cuerpo, sacuden
el cielo las campanas,
y un himno llena el mundo.
Sólo tú y yo,
sólo tú y yo, amor mío,
lo escuchamos.
Your Laughter
Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
Do not take away the rose,
the lanceflower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in your joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.
My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.
My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.
Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.
Tu Risa
Quítame el pan, si quieres,
quítame el aire, pero
no me quites tu risa.
No me quites la rosa,
la lanza que desgranas,
el agua que de pronto
estalla en tu alegría,
la repentina ola
de plata que te nace.
Mi lucha es dura y vuelvo
con los ojos cansados
a veces de haber visto
la tierra que no cambia,
pero al entrar tu risa
sube al cielo buscándome
y abre para mí todas
las puertas de la vida.
Amor mío, en la hora
más oscura desgrana
tu risa, y si de pronto
ves que mi sangre mancha
las piedras de la calle,
ríe, porque tu risa
será para mis manos
como una espada fresca.
Junto al mar en otoño,
tu risa debe alzar
su cascada de espuma,
y en primavera, amor,
quiero tu risa como
la flor que yo esperaba,
la flor azul, la rosa
de mi patria sonora.
Ríete de la noche,
del día, de la luna,
ríete de las calles
torcidas de la isla,
ríete de este torpe
muchacho que te quiere,
pero cuando yo abro
los ojos y los cierro,
cuando mis pasos van,
cuando vuelven mis pasos,
niégame el pan, el aire,
la luz, la primavera,
pero tu risa nunca
porque me moriría.
In You The Earth
Little
rose,
roselet,
at times,
tiny and naked,
it seems
as though you would fit
in one of my hands,
as though I’ll clasp you like this
and carry you to my mouth,
but
suddenly
my feet touch your feet and my mouth to your lips:
you have grown,
your shoulders rise like two hills,
your breasts wander over my breast,
my arm scarcely manages to encircle the thin
new-moon line of your waist:
in love you have loosened yourself like sea water:
I can scarcely measure the sky’s most spacious eyes
and I lean down to your mouth to kiss the earth.
En Ti La Tierra
Pequeña
rosa,
rosa pequeña,
a veces,
diminuta y desnuda,
parece
que en una mano mía
cabes,
que así voy a cerrarte
y llevarte a mi boca,
pero
de pronto
mis pies tocan tus pies y mi boca tus labios:
has crecido,
suben tus hombros como dos colinas,
tus pechos se pasean por mi pecho,
mi brazo alcanza apenas a rodear la delgada
línea de luna nueva que tiene tu cintura:
en el amor como agua de mar te has desatado:
mido apenas los ojos más extensos del cielo
y me inclino a tu boca para besar la tierra.
Bibliography
Neruda, Pablo. Love poems. Translated by Donald D. Walsh. New Directions Paperbacks, 2008.
“Pablo in Love.” Southern Explorations. Accessed January 20, 2024. https://www.southernexplorations.com/pablo-love.
Abbey Villasis is a first-year Classics and English student at King’s College London with a passion for the Spanish language and Latin American culture. Born and raised in Toronto, she is of Ecuadorian descent and is a published poet.
