We have lost even this twilight.
No one saw us this evening hand in hand,
While the blue night dropped on 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 that sadness of mine that you know.
Where were you then? Who else was there? Saying what? Why will the whole love come on me suddenly When I am 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.
Texts: poem of Pablo Neruda. Photos: mine.