Come to the orchard in Spring

"Even though all it takes to fill a life is the sun, the land and a poem." --Kikuchi Masaou.

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Tonight I Can Write by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

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Write, for example, ‘The night is starry

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.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

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Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

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She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

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Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

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.

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.

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.

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.

My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

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The same night whitening the same trees.

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.

My voice tried 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.

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.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

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Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms

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

and these the last verses that I write for her.

Filed under Pablo Neruda Tonight I can write the saddest lines