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Pablo Neruda |
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines. |
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Write, for example, 'The night is starry |
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and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.' |
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The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. |
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines. |
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I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. |
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Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. |
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I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. |
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She loved me, sometimes I loved her too. |
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How could one not have loved her great still eyes. |
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Tonight I can write the saddest lines. |
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To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. |
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To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. |
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And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. |
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What does it matter that my love could not keep her. |
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The night is starry and she is not with me. |
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This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. |
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My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. |
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My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer. |
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My heart looks for her, and she is not with me. |
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The same night whitening the same trees. |
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We, of that time, are no longer the same. |
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I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her. |
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My voice tries to find the wind to touch her hearing. |
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Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses. |
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Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes. |
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I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. |
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Love is so short, forgetting is so long. |
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Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms |
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my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. |
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Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer |
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and these the last verses that I write for her. |
