[[ Free Pdf ]] ⇤ Yüz Aşk Sonesi ⇭ PDF eBook or Kindle ePUB free

When I got tired of copying love poems from the Chinese and Japanese into urgent, wretched note cards to lovers who were unattainable and I m a genius at finding unattainable characters to pine after that s when I turned to Pablo Neruda He s even better than Asian poets at crafting throbbing, passionate, wounded phrases of affection I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers thanks to your love a certain solid fragrencerisen from the earth, l When I got tired of copying love poems from the Chinese and Japanese into urgent, wretched note cards to lovers who were unattainable and I m a genius at finding unattainable characters to pine after that s when I turned to Pablo Neruda He s even better than Asian poets at crafting throbbing, passionate, wounded phrases of affection I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers thanks to your love a certain solid fragrencerisen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.and No one can stop the river of your hands,your eyes and their sleepiness, my dearest.You are the trembling of time, which passesbetween the vertical light and the darkening sky.and From the stormy archipelagoes I broughtmy windy accordian, waves of crazy rain,the habitual slowness of natural things they made up my wild heart.Imagine for a moment being the unsuspecting recipient of such transcribed scribblings You thought you were just getting a nice shag, and now you re getting Neruda by notecard, shoved into the mail slot of your door, or left under your windshield wiper at the parking garage At least I never called in the middle of the night and left Neruda recitations on the answering machine Okay, maybe I did once But there had been a great deal of tequila involved.Not everything he wrote was tortured Some of it was just beautiful I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.and because love cannot always fly without resting,our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea our kisses head back home where they belong.and By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the twotogether in their sleep will defeat the darknessLuckily I got over the phase where I copied tragic poetry into notecards to express my unrequited passions Now I ve moved on to mix CDs I swear, I m a caricature even of myself Emo mommy Pardon me while I don a pirate blouse and walk moodily across the moors on a stormy day.Pablo, however, is lovely [[ Free Pdf ]] ⇡ Yüz Aşk Sonesi ⇻ Elimde iki anahtar tutuyorum sanki Biri sevmek seni, b r sevmemek,biri mutluluk,mutsuzluk bir yazg ihtimali b r ki ihtimali var a k m n seni severkenBundand r seni sevmedi im zaman da sevmek,bundand r seni sevdi im zaman da sevmek A History of Religious Ideas, Volume 3 b r sevmemek,biri mutluluk,mutsuzluk bir yazg ihtimali b r ki ihtimali var a k m n seni severkenBundand r seni sevmedi im zaman da sevmek,bundand r seni sevdi im zaman da sevmek I really sometimes wonder if I love right, love correctly, or if I love at all and am not just miming what I think, what I want, I feel For me I love all at once, I fall very fast, but rarely I will go long loveless periods through life, happy and unthinking of what passions I am missing, unenvious of people paired in love, like a bright new boat at sea not thinking at all of the harbor And suddenly in a lightning flash un coup de foudre , I am whipped up into a maelstrom of passion and angu I really sometimes wonder if I love right, love correctly, or if I love at all and am not just miming what I think, what I want, I feel For me I love all at once, I fall very fast, but rarely I will go long loveless periods through life, happy and unthinking of what passions I am missing, unenvious of people paired in love, like a bright new boat at sea not thinking at all of the harbor And suddenly in a lightning flash un coup de foudre , I am whipped up into a maelstrom of passion and anguish I am battered on all sides, forced always to maneuver at the helm and can think of nothing else, whatever I am tormented in waiting out the storm, waiting for the dawn, the exchanged I love you or just a sign or symbol of reciprocation I wait by the telephone, always checking messages, or finding myself reading through old messages I am mad in love, always But I think it may be better to be mad than never to feel that madness ever, always to love on a level plane.What I love in poetry is that it is always, when done right, an attempt at saying what can never be said Death, love, grief, loss, these things are common material, for what truths can ever be said in language about them We all feel them every day, but words diminish them To Love is golden in all its glister, but to speak of love is only to wear gawdy jewelry, paste diamonds and pyrite It is a poor imitation to describe love, language is an ill fitted coat for it, it hangs loose and leaves unfitting folds But poetry, though not all of it, comes close to representing Love Not every poem, nor maybe even not any whole poem, but lines, phrases, words on the page, somehow strike me and I think yes, that s just it that s just the way it is And there are a few poets who really strike me as troubadours of love, Love in a meaningful way, meaningful to me Pablo Neruda with Edna St Vincent Millay, and at turns Ronsard, Akhmatova, Plath, Secton, Whitman, sometimes Catullus and Roethke stands out as feeling how I feel, writing what I feel abstractly and without words Many of the sonnets in this collection I do not love, and many I do not like and make me feel nothing But there are a few which feel infinite to me, which burn in me like my own loves And my favorite from Neruda, maybe my favorite ever love poem, If you forget me I return to often, maybe every time I feel that pang of love You know how this is if I lookat the crystal moon, at the red branchof the slow autumn at my window,if I touchnear the firethe impalpable ashor the wrinkled body of the log,everything carries me to you,as if everything that exists aromas, light, metals,were little boats that sailtoward those isles of yours that wait for me To me this is what it is to be in love It is that everything becomes a messenger, a sign, a whisper of Love, even ugly and insignificant things, small things and silly trifles, and also big things that shake you, everything becomes a little boat which carries you off in a flash to that feeling of longing, of loving, of that person which you love which is absent Time becomes measured in time with and time without, and always there is a feeling of lack in the former, and unending excess in the latter Neruda knows, and writes of in his Love Sonnets, that love is an ache Though love adds an infinitude to life, though it brims over everywhere on everything, it too makes one wantthan enough,than is possible or conceivable To love someone is to want them so bad and so frequently that you would ruin yourself, like a child over indulging in sweets And the worst, the most painful but maybe the most wonderful, too, part of love, is the persistent mystery I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,I love you simply, without problems or pride I love you in this way because I don t know any other way of loving To love someone because they are beautiful or kind or generous or smart is an affront to love While these may spark an initial attraction they are insufficient to inspire love While attraction may be slave to Love s Dictionary what is beauty what is intelligence or ambition , love is a slave, rather, to it s gesturary One s love is impinged upon by that smile they wear when you look at them a long time, or the way they carry themselves into the room, or bend over to remove a shoe, or grab a pen and think a moment before writing it is that flash of confusion on the face when they are surprised, or the tension which builds in their brow when they are stifling despair, or when they are worried and they fidget just a bit There can be no pride nor complexity in love, because to be in love is to be completely vulnerable to loss While love adds to everything, it is a constant threat of losing everything, and having to build up from the ruins alone It is so simple, excruciatingly simple to love and be loved to not love nor be loved to love and not be loved not to love but be loved it is the unnecessary things, the petty superficialities which interfere and threaten love, which make it seem complicated When the brain and the heart are in discord, when one lies to oneself about what they want, what they love, what they need.Like in Roland Barthes Lover s Discourse, I am moved by Neruda s understanding that to love is also to wait so I wait for you like a lonely housetill you will see me again and live in me.Till then my windows ache For one feels in love that before love their life was an empty house, unlivable And they maintained it, washed the windows and unclogged the gutters and kept the paint fresh from chipping, but inside it was always empty, perhaps only filled in the corners but subtle things in shadows But when you are in love, it seems that suddenly all your house is busy with new furniture and decoration for some imminent party, and there are things that you love but don t need, and things which are needed but not loved, and all over there is activity, and everyone for now there seem so many guests is thinking of one thing And when you are with that person you love, it is not the party which you were waiting for, it seems like you are living in the house and it is some anonymous Sunday morning you drinking your coffee, them reading the paper, feeding the cat , and everything is calm and quiet But when they leave, there is the rush in the heart to make them stay Your whole body aches to make them stay for ever, to keep them prisoner What if they go away and they stop loving you Your mind is again aflutter with worries and anxieties, and when it is about to give up, it is re nourished by a fleeting memory of their smile, or a kind word, or an unexpected message But always the windows ache, and inside the boiler cries It was one of those days The kids flooded the bathroom, the cat vomited on my carpet, a toothbrush got lodged down the drain One of those days It was not a day to start a Sarah Vowell book about the beginnings of Hawaii No, not today Today, I grabbed the bottle of Sangria and sat down with this Again, I have to thank Goodreads for introducing me to Bells shout out to Bells Woot Woot who introduced me to Pablo Imagine living my whole life and not knowing Pablo The horror There is a It was one of those days The kids flooded the bathroom, the cat vomited on my carpet, a toothbrush got lodged down the drain One of those days It was not a day to start a Sarah Vowell book about the beginnings of Hawaii No, not today Today, I grabbed the bottle of Sangria and sat down with this Again, I have to thank Goodreads for introducing me to Bells shout out to Bells Woot Woot who introduced me to Pablo Imagine living my whole life and not knowing Pablo The horror There is a reason that middle aged women find abstinent shiny vampires attractive We are tired We have lost the inspiration and cling to the notion of everlasting love like spanx We are what we are I will admit that I was duped by that Edward With all hisDo you truly believe that you carefor me than I do for youcrap Yes, we are faulty We want to hear that stuff We also want to hear that you loved Duran Duran and that Say Anything was your favorite movie of all time We clear Good.Where was I Oh, yeah, pouring another glass of Sangria and talking about Pablo Okay, Pablo with his baldness and his Alfred Hitchcockian body Pablo would take Edward down No stake needed, my friend Oh, my dearest, I could not love you so But when I hold you I hold everything that is Sand, time, the tree of the rain, Everything is alive so that I can be aliveWithout moving I can see it all In your life I see everything that lives.Hellz to the Yeah That s the stuff Whoo Pablo Pablo he s our man Okay, he s Matilda Uruttia s man, but eh semantics Imagine 100 love sonnets For one woman Swoon And, it s not like you have to look for lines like the one above It s every frickin page I just fall deeper and deeper I drinkand my eyes waterYes, you are exactly my brand of heroin Oh, Eddie silly you Give it up Go away.This is part of Pablo s dedicationWhen I set this task for myself, I knew very well that down the right sides of sonnets, with elegant discriminating taste, poets of all times have arranged rhymes that sound like silver, or crystal, or cannon fire But with great humility I made these sonnets out of wood I gave them the sound of that opaque pure substance, and this is how they should reach your ears Now that I have declared the foundations of my life, I surrender this century to you wooden sonnets that rise only because you gave them life Can you imagine living with that We all crave that crazy new found love feeling, right Be honest There s nothing like that rush but imagine a full grown, fleshed out, downright dedication of life Suddenly, it s not about the adrenaline it s about the stamina Pablo divides his sonnets into four sections Morning, Afternoon, Evening, and Night And isn t that the kicker The words so powerful that you feel each time, you age with him, you are his day Lucky, lucky woman, that Matilda Morning I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all dayI hunt for the liquid measure of your steps Afternoon So that I am like a scorched rockthat suddenly sings when you are near, because it drinksthe water you carry from the forest, in your voiceEvening I need the light of your energy, I looked around, devouring hope.I watched the void without you that is like a house, nothing left but tragic windows.Night No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams, you will go, We will go together, over the waters of time.No one else will travel through the shadows with me, Only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.Your hands have already opened their delicate fistsAnd let their soft drifting signs drop away Your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I moveAfter, following the folding water you carry, that carries Me away The night, the word, the wind spin out their destiny.Without you , I am your dream, only that, and that is all.It s hard to write a review of Pablo without totally quoting Pablo You have to experience him, I feel like I m cheating with this one I will end with just this I hope everyone finds their Pablo I hope everyone opens their eyes and sees their Pablo My comment would be written on the wings of butterflies I want you to knowone thing.You know how this is if I lookat the crystal moon, at the red branchof the slow autumn at my window,if I touchnear the firethe impalpable ashor the wrinkled body of the log,everything carries me to you,as if everything that exists,aromas, light, metals,were little boatsthat sailtoward those isles of yours that wait for me.Well, now,if little by little you stop loving meI shall stop loving you little by little My comment would be written on the wings of butterflies I want you to knowone thing.You know how this is if I lookat the crystal moon, at the red branchof the slow autumn at my window,if I touchnear the firethe impalpable ashor the wrinkled body of the log,everything carries me to you,as if everything that exists,aromas, light, metals,were little boatsthat sailtoward those isles of yours that wait for me.Well, now,if little by little you stop loving meI shall stop loving you little by little.If suddenlyyou forget medo not look for me,for I shall already have forgotten you.If you think it long and mad,the wind of bannersthat passes through my life,and you decideto leave me at the shoreof the heart where I have roots,rememberthat on that day,at that hour,I shall lift my armsand my roots will set offto seek another land.Butif each day,each hour,you feel that you are destined for mewith implacable sweetness,if each day a flowerclimbs 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 armswithout leaving mine I do not love you as if you were salt rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadows and soul.I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.I love without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride So I love you be I do not love you as if you were salt rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadows and soul.I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.I love without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride So I love you because I know no other waythan this where I does not exist, nor you,so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep 8.5 10I have been consuming poetry in the last few months at an inordinate rate I enter phases cycles in my life where it s easier to read poetry than proseimportantly, where my life demands poetrythan it does prose It s silly, in that context, to add long passages of my boring prose to describe what Neruda does perfectly in poems All I can add is, if you haven t read Neruda, or haven t read him lately, do your soul a favour and pick up this little book, even if you borrow it 8.5 10I have been consuming poetry in the last few months at an inordinate rate I enter phases cycles in my life where it s easier to read poetry than proseimportantly, where my life demands poetrythan it does prose It s silly, in that context, to add long passages of my boring prose to describe what Neruda does perfectly in poems All I can add is, if you haven t read Neruda, or haven t read him lately, do your soul a favour and pick up this little book, even if you borrow it from the library, and go sit quietly for an hour.How many times, love, I loved you without seeing youand maybe without recollection,not recognizing your glance, not looking at you, a centaur,in adverse regions, in a burning midday you were just the scent of grains I love.Perhaps I saw you, I imagined you in passing lifting a glassin Angol, by the light of the moon in June,or you were the waist of that guitarI played in the darkness, and it sounded like the excessive seas.I loved you without knowing it, and I looked for your memory.In the empty houses I entered with a lantern to steal your portrait.But I already knew how you were Suddenlywhile you were there with me I touched you and my life stopped before my eyes you were, ruling me, and you reign.Like a bonfire in the forests, fire is your kingdom Cu ntas veces, amor, te am sin verte y tal vez sin recuerdo,sin reconocer tu mirada, sin mirarte, centauraen regiones contrarias, en un mediod a quemante eras s lo el aroma de los cereales que amo.Tal vez te vi, te supuse al pasar levantando una copaen Angol, a la luz de la luna de junio,o eras t la cintura de aquella guitarraque toqu en las tinieblas y son como el mar desmedido.Te am sin que yo lo supiera, y busqu tu memoria.En las casas vac as entr con linterna a robar tu retrato.Pero yo ya sab a c mo era De prontomientras ibas conmigo te toqu y se detuvo mi vida frente a mis ojos estabas, rein ndome, y reinas.Como hoguera en los bosques el fuego es tu reino PS This is a lovely edition which includes paintings by Gabriela Campos 5 Stunning StarsI was utterly swept away by the beauty of these love sonnets.Someone had sent me a quote from one of them, I fell in love with itand just had to readI love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or prideso I love you because I know no other way than thiswhere I does not exist, nor youso close that your hand on my chest is my hand,so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep How.5 Stunning StarsI was utterly swept away by the beauty of these love sonnets.Someone had sent me a quote from one of them, I fell in love with itand just had to readI love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or prideso I love you because I know no other way than thiswhere I does not exist, nor youso close that your hand on my chest is my hand,so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep HowI am to have the pleasure of reading, such stunning words I made these sonnets out of wood I gave them the sound of that opaque pure substance, and that is how they should reach your ears Walking in forests or on beaches, along hidden lakes, in latitudes sprinkled with ashes, you and I have picked up pieces of pure bark, pieces of wood subject to the comings and goings of water and the weather Out of such softened relics, then, with hatchet and machete and pocketknife, I built up these lumber piles of love, and with fourteen boards each I built litt I made these sonnets out of wood I gave them the sound of that opaque pure substance, and that is how they should reach your ears Walking in forests or on beaches, along hidden lakes, in latitudes sprinkled with ashes, you and I have picked up pieces of pure bark, pieces of wood subject to the comings and goings of water and the weather Out of such softened relics, then, with hatchet and machete and pocketknife, I built up these lumber piles of love, and with fourteen boards each I built little houses, so that your eyes, which I adore and sing to, might live in them Now that I have declared the foundations of my love, I surrender this century to you wooden sonnets that rise only because you gave them life Whoever loved as we did Let us huntfor the ancient cinders of a heart that burnedand make our kisses fall one by one,till that empty flower rises again.Let us love the love that consumed its fruit and wentdown, its image and its power, into the earth you and I are the light that endures,its irrevocable delicate thorn.Bring to that love, entombed by so much cold time,by snow and spring, by oblivion and autumn,the light of a new apple, lightof a freshness opened by a new wound,like that ancient love that passes in silencethrough an eternity of buried mouths and to me she quoted him no one else, love, will sleep in my dreams you will go,we will go together, over the waters of time.no one else will travel through the shadows with me,only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon thus, i knew for sure.