Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que le he perdido.
Oir la noche inmensa, mas inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocio.
Que importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche esta estrellada y ella no esta conmigo.
Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Pablo Neruda
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5 comments:
can we have a translation? for those of us who dont speak a million languages!! ;) xxx
Took me a while but I think I have it...
'Some Children wrote those last few verses and so I trust you will ignore the bit about 'Tango'. It's because of the children
It sounds immense! My immense song, but i am without 'her' Maybe she'd come onto me more, if included some verses about pasta and rice.
That probably wouldn't bring my love. Food (and my cooking) is the reason I am not with her.
I am all by myself. Even the chilren have all gone, to play with their lego. I am not completely happy with this ending, perhaps I'll write something more erotic'
There, who needs a translation!
Hhmmm...
That made me laugh lots tim! i think i prefer your version! ;) x
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