I can write the saddest verses tonight.
To write, for example, ‘It’s a starry night,
and the stars twinkle blue in the distance.’
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest verses tonight.
I loved her, and at times she also loved me.
On nights like this I took her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
She loved me, and at times I also loved her.
How could one not love her great staring eyes.
I can write the saddest verses tonight.
Think I don’t have her. Feel I have lost her.
Hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the verse falls on the soul like dew on the grass.
What matter that my love could not keep her.
It’s a starry night and she is not with me.
That is all. In the distance someone sings. In the distance.
My soul cannot accept having lost her.
As if to approach her, my sight seeks her.
My heart seeks her, and she is not with me.
The same night which hides the same trees.
We, as we were then, are no longer the same.
I don’t love her now, it’s true, but I loved her so much.
My voice sought the breath to touch her hearing.
Another’s. She will be another’s. As when before my kisses.
Her voice, her clear body. Her infinite eyes.
I don’t love her now,it’s true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.
Because on nights like this I took her in my arms,
my soul cannot accept having lost her.
Even though this be the last pain she causes me,
And these the last verses I write for her.

Pablo Neruda
(1904-1973)