The Poetry of Pablo Neruda

by Pablo Neruda

My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.

you look like the world in your posture of surrender.

Between the lips and the voice something goes dying. Something with the wings of a bird, something of anguish and oblivion. The way nets cannot hold water.

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.