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6/27/2009

27/06/2009

No pic today...maybe I will find one tomorrow...
No pic...just this one I took there was exactly 1 year...during an other lonely saturday night...It was like this night, the "feu de la St-Jean", an old tradition whre people meet arround a huge fire...
Something was missing in my life today...
More than a pic...
More than the air I breath...
There was exactly one year...feeling the same thing...
We have lost even this twilight. No one saw us this evening hand in hand while the blue night dropped out of 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 between my hands. I remembered you with my soul clenched in the 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 have sad and feel you are far away? The book fell that is always turned to at twilight and my cape rolled like a hurt dog at my feet. Always, always you recede through the evenings towards where the twilight goes erasing statues.
© Pablo Neruda, Tewnty love poems and a song of despair

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