Share with your friends

{ click the image above to pin it! }

More from Pablo Neruda

There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don’t now and never did lie to each other.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Tonight I Can Write

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way

than this: Where ‘I’ does not exist, nor ‘You’, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Now, on the road to freedom, I was pausing for a moment near Temuco and could hear the voice of the water that had taught me to sing.

Wall Street Journal 14 Nov 85