I can write the saddest verses

I can write the saddest verses tonight.

Write, for example "The night is shattered with stars,
twinkling, blue, in the distance."

The night wind spins in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.
I loved her, and at times she loved me too.

On nights like this I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times beneath the infinite sky.

She loved me, at times I used to love her too.
How could you not have loved her great still eyes.

I can write the saddest verses tonight.
To think that I don’t have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the verse falls on my soul like dew on grass.

What difference does it make if my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered with stars and she is not with me.

That's all. In the distance, someone sings. In the distance.
My soul is not at peace with having lost her.

My gaze searches for her, as if to bring her closer.
My heart searches for her, and she is not with me.

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

I no longer love her, it’s true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Another's. She will be another's. Like before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, it's true, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, and forgetting is so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is not at peace with having lost her.

Though this may be the final sorrow she causes me,
and these the last verses I write her.

Pablo Neruda
(translated by Mark Eisner)