Quítame the bread, if you want,
quítame the air, but
you to me do not clear laughter.
You do not clear the rose to me,
the lance that you shell,
the water that suddenly
it explodes in your joy,
the sudden wave
of silver that is born to you.
My fight is hard and I return
with the tired eyes
sometimes of to have seen
the Earth that it does not change,
but when entering your laughter
it raises the sky looking for to me
already bre for me all
the doors of the life.
Love mine, in the hour
darker it shells
your laughter, and if suddenly
you see that my blood stains
the stones of the street,
rie, because your laughter
it will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foam cascade,
and in spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower that I hoped,
the blue flower, the rose
of my sonorous mother country.
Ríete at night,
of the day, the moon,
ríete of the streets
twisted of the island,
ríete of the streets
twisted of the island,
ríete of this clumsy one
boy whom he loves to you,
but when I open
the eyes and I close them,
when my steps go,
when they return my steps,
niégame the bread, the air,
the light, the spring,
but your laughter never
because it would die to me.
What does the Poem Your Laughter by Pablo Neruda mean to you?
What it means to me!!??
This is what it means . . . . to me of course:
http://www.links2love.com/poetry_19.htm
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