"Poem 20" by Pablo Neruda

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

Write, for example: "The night is starry,

and the stars, shivering blue in the distance."

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.
I wanted her, and sometimes, she wanted me too.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

How could I not love her great still eyes.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

Thinking I do not have her. Feeling I have lost her.

Listening to the immense night, more immeasurable without her.

And the verse falls on to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter, my love could not keep her.

The night is starry and she is not with me.

That is all. Far off someone sings. Far off.

My soul cannot be content to have lost her.

As though to bring her near, my gaze looks for her.

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

The same night that whitens the same trees.

We, the ones from then, we are not longer the same.

I no longer love her, true, but how I loved her.

My voice searched for the wind to touch her ear.

Of another. (She will) be of another. As before of my kisses.

Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.

So short is love, and so long is oblivion.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,

My soul cannot be content to have lost her.

Although this is the last pain she will cause me,

and these are the last lines I write for her.