Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her in my arms I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. She loved me, and I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is shattered and she is not with me. This is all. In the distance someone is singing. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. My sight searches for her as though to go to her. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me. -Pablo Neruda-
Posted on: Wed, 04 Jun 2014 20:32:25 +0000
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