— Does writing make the anguish of living more bearable?
— Yes, of course. Exercising your profession, if you enjoy it, is sheer bliss. Otherwise it is sheer hell.
— Who is God?
— Sometimes everybody. Always nothing.
— How can one best describe a human being?
— Political, poetic. And physical.
— What is your idea of a beautiful woman?
— One who embodies many women.
— Write down your favourite poem, that is to say your favourite poem at this very moment.
— I am writing. Can you spare me ten years?
— Where would you like to live if you were not living in Chile?
— You may think me foolish and excessively patriotic, but as I once stated in a poem:
Were I to be born a thousand times over,
This is where I would wish to be born.
Were I to die a thousand times over,
That is where I would wish to die…
— What has been your greatest satisfaction as a writer?
— To be able to read my verses to ordinary people in the remotest places: to miners in the desert regions of Northern Chile, to wool-shearers in the Magellan Straits in a shed smelling of unwashed wool, sweat and solitude.
— Are your moments of creative inspiration preceded by anguish or a state of grace?
— I experience no such feelings. Yet I would not call myself an insensitive person.
— Say something to surprise me.
— 748.
(And he really did surprise me with the unexpected resonance of those numbers.)
— What are your views on contemporary Brazilian poetry? Which of our poets do you prefer?
— I admire Drummond, Vinicius de Morais and your religious poet, Jorge de Lima, who reminds me of Claudel. I am not familiar with the work of younger poets in Brazil, that is to say poets after the generation of Paulo Mendes Campos and Geir Campos. One poem I greatly admire is ‘O Defunto’ [The Deceased] by Pedro Nava. I read it aloud to friends everywhere.
— How do you feel about literature of commitment?
— All literature is committed.
— Which of your own books do you like best?
— The next one.
— Can you explain why readers often refer to you as ‘The Volcano of Latin America’?
— That is news to me. They have probably never experienced a volcano.
— What is your most recent poem?
– ‘Fim do Mundo’ [End of the World]. It is about the twentieth century.
— How does the creative process develop in your case?
— With pen and paper. At least that is the method I follow.
— Do you find reviews by the critics constructive?
— Perhaps for others, but not for the writer.
— Have you ever written a poem to order? Could you compose one now, however short?
— Lots of them. Some of my best poems. Here is the poem you asked for.
— Was the name Neruda accidental or inspired by Jan Neruda, the poet of the Czech freedom movement?
— No one has ever been able to verify this matter.
— What is the most important thing in the world?
— To try and make the world a worthy place for everyone, not just for the privileged few.
— What do you desire most of all for yourself?
— That depends on the hour of the day.
— What is love? Any type of love?
— The best definition is simply: Love is love.
— Have you suffered much for love?
— I am prepared to suffer even more.
— How long would you like to spend here in Brazil?
— A year, but much depends on my work.
And thus ended my interview with Pablo Neruda. I wish he had been prepared to say more. I could have carried on almost indefinitely even if only to be given the briefest of replies. He offered me a copy of his book: Cien sonetos de amor [One Hundred Love Sonnets]. And after writing my name he wrote: ‘From your friend Pablo’. I, too, felt that we could have become close friends in more favourable circumstances. On the back cover of his book, the blurb says: ‘Everything is manifest with an aura of innocent, pagan sensuality: love is seen as man’s vocation and poetry as his mission.’
Those words sum up the essential qualities of Pablo Neruda.