Neruda moment
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
Write for
example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver,
blue, those stars, in the distance’
The night wind
turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the
saddest lines tonight.
I loved her,
sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these
I held her in my arms.
I kissed her
greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me,
sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not
have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the
saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t
have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast
night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the
soul like dew on the grass.
What does it
matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is
fractured and she is not with me.
That is all.
Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not
content to have lost her.
As though to
reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks
for her: she is not with me
The same night
whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don’t love her,
that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to
find the breeze to reach her.
Another’s kisses
on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her
bright body, infinite eyes.
I don’t love her,
that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief:
forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights,
I held her in my arms,
my soul is not
content to have lost her.
Though this is
the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the
last lines I will write for her.
