Pablo Neruda
Clenched Soul

                        We have lost even this twilight.
                        No one saw us this evening hand in hand
                        while the blue night dropped on the world.
                        I have seen from my window
                        the fiesta of sunset in the distant mountain tops.
                        Sometimes a piece of sun
                        burned like a coin in my hand.
                        I remembered you with my soul clenched
                        in that sadness of mine that you know.
                        Where were you then?
                        Who else was there?
                        Saying what?
                        Why will the whole of love come on me suddenly
                        when I am sad and feel you are far away?
                        The book fell that always closed at twilight
                        and my blue sweater rolled like a hurt dog at my feet.
                        Always, always you recede through the evenings
                        toward the twilight erasing statues.

deep and strong and strange