I'm not very well-read in Neruda. I would like to be.
I've been to his home/museum in Santiago de Chile and I enjoyed reading his autobiography. However, poems have always been challenging for me. I'll have to mull over this one a little more.
The
Brazilian Girls, a New York City band, set the
Neruda poem to a song. Have a listen.
Me gustas cuando callas
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,
y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.
Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado
y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.
Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante;
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si huieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan,
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.
Pablo Neruda
I Like You when you're quiet
I Like You when you're quiet: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice doesn't touch you.
It seems as though you 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 resemble the word Melancholy.
I like for you to be quiet, and you seem far away.
It sounds as though you were 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 were absent,
distant and full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word then, one smile, is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it's not true.
for another hour to rest and play in the water. Max didn't like the water but I swam in the river while Max stood on the shore looking very concerned.
