On Pablo Neruda

One of my favorite poets, Neruda, writes close to the bone. Though I know only a little Spanish, I like to compare the Spanish and English lines and see how the translator worked.
Anita Diament

El poeta debe ser parcialmente el cronista de su época. La crónica no debe ser ni quintasenciada, ni refinada, ni cultivista. Debe ser la crónica pedregosa, polvorienta, lluviosa, cotidiana. Debe tener la huella miserable de los días inútiles y las execraciones y lamentaciones del hombre.
Pablo Neruda


My discovery of Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer's work was the experience that opened my eyes to the wonder of literature. I wrote about this in the post titled “Origins of a Dream.” Touched by this Spaniard’s verses, in the years that followed I read all the poetry, in Spanish, that I could get my hands on.

But surprisingly, although Pablo Neruda already had legions of fans throughout the world, I didn’t come across his work until my senior year in high school, when our literature teacher assigned “Poema 20.”

He sent us home with a mimeographed copy of the poem and the task of writing a brief interpretive essay for the next day. From my first reading of “Poema 20” I knew, intuitively, that I was in the presence of a timeless work of art. And what continues to amaze me, in spite of the passage of time, is how Pablo Neruda makes the art of writing beautiful, impacting verses—and about every topic imaginable—seem easy. That is a sign of genius.

In my late teens at the time, I believed that I could write similar verses, and just as easily. The Chilean poet became my new literary hero. More importantly, at least back then, Pablo Neruda was still alive, still writing, and still producing astonishing work. He wasn’t a distant, long-dead 19th century Spanish poet, like Bécquer. What’s more, Neruda made being a poet seem like an occupation where adoration and glory greeted the lucky practitioner every step of the way.

For years I tried in vain to write like Don Pablo. But in the end I gave up, realizing that humanity rarely produces such geniuses.

Still, thanks to Neruda, I started to see the world differently. His verses taught me that life is a complex, astonishing thing and that one must continually strive to grow, to become better at doing the things one loves to do.

Selected Poems of Pablo Neruda (a bilingual anthology) is near the top of my list of favorite books. Neruda’s verses are superb in their English translations. And I am always thrilled when a colleague that teaches English claims that Neruda’s work also influenced his or her outlook on poetry—and profoundly at that.

Indeed, Pablo Neruda was perhaps the first Latin American literary giant to successfully cross the borders of languages and cultures separating the Americas. And I find comfort in knowing that I am merely one of millions that have been touched by the work of this exceptionally talented poet.