I Like for You to Be Still: Glenn Close Reads Pablo Neruda

“During this long journey I found the necessary components for the making of the poem. There I received contributions from the earth and from the soul,” said Pablo Neruda (July 12, 1904–September 23, 1973) in his Nobel Prize speech. “And I believe that poetry is an action, ephemeral or solemn, in which there enter as equal partners solitude and solidarity, emotion and action, the nearness to oneself, the nearness to mankind and to the secret manifestations in nature.”

Pablo Neruda was only 20 years old when he published Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, the same collection that launched him into international fame and paved the way to one of the highest awards a creative wordsmith can ever receive. Since then, he became one of the most celebrated poets of the twentieth century. Originally written in Spanish, his poems often draw upon what is most relatable and cherished in our everyday experiences. Using his exquisite mastery to weave simple words, he creates unforgettable metaphors illuminating the subtleties of love, the wonder of everyday objects, and the imperceptible mysteries of nature. What sets Neruda’s poetry apart is “this combination of the sensory and the natural, the subjective and the eternal, the instinctual and the commonly transcendent,” all of which we can fully feel in his poem “I Like for You to Be Still,” read here by a sensuous voice of Glenn Close. Please enjoy:

I LIKE FOR YOU TO BE STILL
by Pablo Neruda

I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as though your eyes had flown away
and it seems that a kiss had sealed you 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 are like the word Melancholy.

I like for you to be still, 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 sorrows as though you had died.
One word then, one smile, is enough.
And I am happy, happy that it’s not true.

Complement “I Like for You to Be Still,” an integral part of Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair, with Gregory Orr’s love letter to nature, wakefulness, and being alive, and then revisit Billy Collins’ ode to an everlasting bond between a mother and her child.