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Pablo Neruda (1904 - 1973) |
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SADDEST POEM Write, for instance: "The night
is full of stars, The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all
tonight. On nights like this, I held her in my
arms. She loved me, sometimes I loved her. I can write the saddest poem of all
tonight. To hear the immense night, more immense
without her. What does it matter that my love couldn't
keep her. That's all. Far away, someone sings.
Far away. As if to bring her near, my eyes search
for her. The same night that whitens the same
trees. I no longer love her, true, but how
much I loved her. Someone else's. She will be someone
else's. As she once I no longer love her, true, but perhaps
I love her. Because on nights like this I held her
in my arms, Although this may be the last pain she
causes me,
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