“Remembering her, it is as if my heart were buried in the rain. Again I think it’s she, but why would she be coming now? Oh, what sad days! […] Your eyes : two sleepy cups darkened by purple berries from the forest undergrowth. What a leaf, a leaf from a white vine, fragrant and heavy, I could have brought you from the forest. Every- thing flees from this solitude enforced by rain and contemplation.” - Pablo Neruda, Passions and Impressions
Posted on: Tue, 07 Oct 2014 15:00:00 +0000
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