A poem by Pablo Neruda

I remember you as you were that final autumn. You were a gray beret and the whole being at peace. In your eyes the fires of the evening dusk were battling, and the leaves were falling in the waters of your soul. As attached to my arms as a morning glory, Your sad, slow voice…

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A drifting Log

  Life Like a drifting log Flows forward, downstream Rocks and stones on the shore Push it, detour it, force it to pause Make it whirl and dance in the Gushing currents! Why call it a journey! Why contemplate destination! Many such drifting logs Flow along the way Clashing, chasing, parting away Carrying The baggage…

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