Tonight I Can Write The Saddest Lines
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her….
My friend Laurie Viera Rigler author of Confessions of a Jane Austen Addict and Rude Awakenings of a Jane Austen Addict was kind enough to share a link with me. It is an article in the New York Times about Pablo Neruda and his three homes in Chile: In Chile, Where Pablo Neruda Lived and Loved
I thought I would share it here as well. It was nice to take a peek into one of my favorite poets homes.
Enjoy your weekend 🙂
disclaimer: The photo above is my own and is not to be removed from this post.