Day 296: The Man and the Last Words; ‘Yarn’

On the last day of National Poetry Month, I wanted to share this poem by Pablo Neruda. Neruda was a gifted poet from a young age, a diplomat, a politician, and lived a life dedicated to his country of Chile, especially through some of its most difficult and tumultuous years. For me though, he is the man who wrote Puedo Escribir, or as it is commonly known in English, Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines.

I’ve felt, for quite some time in the beginning, that when my ex left, I lost a lot of me. Parts of me I had held onto and wanted to give to someone special. But coming closer now to a year since the breakup, I can begin to look at what I’ve gained. And certainly, one of them, is a clearer, more distinct voice. I can speak, and write, more now not only to love and loss, but on all the things I desire, enjoy, and wish to be or do. I’ve had to reach so far, so deep, into who I was and who I thought I was to bring myself back up. Love was not her, and I don’t think my love was meant for her. But I can write so much more to love, though now, I feel tired, and no longer want to continue to see if there is any more to the yarn of her and me. And I look to writing about the future, and the future woman I have yet to meet.

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines

-poem by Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,’The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.’

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

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

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

I am off to Punta Cana tomorrow and will be incommunicado for the week, but if you follow me in Twitter I will be posting pics and maybe some vids of my time there!

Day 296

Man: 263 Loneliness: 33

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3 thoughts on “Day 296: The Man and the Last Words; ‘Yarn’

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