Posts Tagged ‘Love’

Everybody uses this line today, in social networks, in sentences that almost nobody realizes. There even are people who used it, and don’t even know the meaning of it: ” I want to do with you, what spring does with the cherry trees.

First it Was Pablo Neruda who wrote a magnificent poem that ended with this sentence, then it was Roberto Begnini using it in a amazing movie ” The tiger and the snow” – many other used it, and gave it an aura that we cannot realize by a simple poem.

But the poem helps, besides that, is a beautiful love poem from Neruda. Here it is:


Every Day You Play

Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands.

You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
The rain takes off her clothes.

The birds go by, fleeing.
The wind. The wind.
I can contend only against the power of men.
The storm whirls dark leaves
and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.

You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.

Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the gray light unwind in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. “

The flower of a cherry tree is considered holy in Japan, because it is very rare, it only blossoms once in each year, the uniqueness of it’s forms, and her sensivity are uncomun – at the least touch it loses it’s petals – so what spring makes to the cherry trees is striping them down with a single blow. The sence of the poem’s end comes from there.


Never the less the poem is amazing – Pablo Neruda is another great reference in our world. It would be very different if he didn’t left us his poems.

Gracias Pablo.


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St. Valentines day…

I can’t really stand this day. It’s awfull, even if i had a girlfriend , i still would hate it. It’s not only all the red hearts flowing arround everywhere you look, it’s making love a business, one of the worst ways to look at it.


Let’s shot the damm bastard.

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