{"id":15916,"date":"2018-01-31T18:02:49","date_gmt":"2018-01-31T23:02:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/?p=15916"},"modified":"2018-01-31T18:02:49","modified_gmt":"2018-01-31T23:02:49","slug":"by-pablo-neruda","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/2018\/01\/31\/by-pablo-neruda.html","title":{"rendered":"By Pablo Neruda"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>\t\t\t\tHe still loves her, I think. But only sometimes.<br \/>\nThe last two lines seem a little harsh, but make me question if this poem was a response to the woman&#8217;s reappearance in his life.<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<blockquote><p>Tonight I can write the saddest lines.<\/p>\n<p>Write, for example, &#8220;The night is shattered<br \/>\nand the blue stars shiver in the distance.&#8221;<\/p>\n<p>The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.<\/p>\n<p>Tonight I can write the saddest lines.<br \/>\nI loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.<\/p>\n<p>Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.<br \/>\nI kissed her again and again under the endless sky.<\/p>\n<p>She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.<br \/>\nHow could one not have loved her great still eyes.<\/p>\n<p>Tonight I can write the saddest lines.<br \/>\nTo think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.<\/p>\n<p>To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.<br \/>\nAnd the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.<\/p>\n<p>What does it matter that my love could not keep her.<br \/>\nThe night is shattered and she is not with me.<\/p>\n<p>This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.<br \/>\nMy soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.<\/p>\n<p>My sight searches for her as though to go to her.<br \/>\nMy heart looks for her, and she is not with me.<\/p>\n<p>The same night whitening the same trees.<br \/>\nWe, of that time, are no longer the same.<\/p>\n<p>I no longer love her, that&#8217;s certain, but how I loved her.<br \/>\nMy voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.<\/p>\n<p>Another&#8217;s. She will be another&#8217;s. Like my kisses before.<br \/>\nHer voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.<\/p>\n<p>I no longer love her, that&#8217;s certain, but maybe I love her.<br \/>\nLove is so short, forgetting is so long.<\/p>\n<p>Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms<br \/>\nmy soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.<\/p>\n<p>Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer<br \/>\nand these the last verses that I write for her.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<\/blockquote>\n<div id=\"attachment_15928\" style=\"width: 296px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-15928\" class=\"wp-image-15928 size-medium\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/mobi\/37\/2018\/01\/20180131_180447-286x300.jpg?resize=286%2C300&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"Pablo Neruda\" width=\"286\" height=\"300\" \/><p id=\"caption-attachment-15928\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Pablo Neruda<\/p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>He still loves her, I think. But only sometimes. The last two lines seem a little harsh, but make me question if this poem was a response to the woman&#8217;s reappearance in his life. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, &#8220;The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":22958,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15916","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-passages","et-has-post-format-content","et_post_format-et-post-format-standard"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/01\/20180131_180447-286x300-5.jpg?fit=286%2C300&ssl=1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paumAn-48I","jetpack-related-posts":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15916","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15916"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15916\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/22958"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15916"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15916"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wsbj.com\/sorabji\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15916"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}