Poetry Reads: I Like You to be Still by Pablo Neruda

Sometimes, a book finds you, like it wanted to be found.

Pablo Neruda's second collection of poetry lay furtively read and untouched in my bookshelf for over a year. 

Yesterday night, as if in a haze I picked it up and discovered in euphoric shock what I had missed. It's like I were asleep in my waking hours and suddenly, blessedly discovered vision. For the wavering reader, it is probably better to read less then, but in intense, still fervour.

Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair was published when Neruda was all of 19.

The Chilean poet wrote in Spanish.

I do not know to what degree the English translation mitigates/alters the original.

An elusive scent emanates from the words. 

A rare, elevating feeling for a reader of poetry.

I Like For You To Be Still 

by Pablo Neruda

I like for you to be still

It is as though you are absent

And you hear me from far away

And my voice does not touch you

It seems as though your eyes had flown away

And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth

As all things are filled with my soul

You emerge from the things

Filled with my soul

You are like my soul

A butterfly of dream

And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still

And you seem far away

It sounds as though you are lamenting

A butterfly cooing like a dove

And you hear me from far away

And my voice does not reach you

Let me come to be still in your silence

And let me talk to you with your silence

That is bright as a lamp

Simple, as a ring

You are like the night

With its stillness and constellations

Your silence is that of a star

As remote and candid

I like for you to be still

It is as though you are absent

Distant and full of sorrow

So you would've died

One word then, One smile is enough

And I'm happy;

Happy that it's not true

(Article by Snehith Kumbla)