Tonight I Can write... By Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, ‘the night is shattered

And the blue stars shiver in the distance.’

 

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

 

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

 

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

 

She loved me, and sometimes 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.

The night is shattered and she is not with me.

 

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

 

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.

My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

 

The same night whitening the same trees.

We, of that time, are no longer the same.

 

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.

My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

 

Another’s. She will be another’s. Like my kisses before.

Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

 

I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

 

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

 

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer

And these the last verses that I write for her.

P.S.  I did not write this. Cant even come closer to the genius. I read this poem in my last year of graduation, and it struck me as the most beautiful, passionate and romantic poem I have ever read. So just thought about sharing it with everybody who have till now not being fortunate enough to read it.  Also the lovers of poetry can sometimes go through the poems of Browning and Tennyson.. They write fantastically well. Also everybody must have heard the name of Shakespeare.. Just read his 'Tragic Dramas', they are mind blowing. Also his sonnets. 

 

Cute? Is that your problem?

Why do guys mind being called ‘cute’? I mean when you appreciate honesty in a girl, and praise her when she dares to call a spade a spade on the face; then what is the big deal about her calling you ‘cute’ when she actually does find you cute? This is one question that has never failed to baffle me, and I am desperately trying to search for its answer. See, agreed, that my definition of “cute” differs from others, but then I am entitled to have my own opinions. I find a friend of mine very very cute (and he hates the tag, and jokes about it), I even find pups, kitties and small babies very cute (especially the roly poly ones.. the latest being the baby Krishna.. he’s too cute and I am in love with him.) In the institute there’s a guy who looks like a cute grown up baby and I have christened him Cutie Pie.. But I am not supposed to call him that in public. Why? Because he thinks only girls can be called cute. His best friend tells me that it hurts his male ego. So does manliness lies in looking macho? Just in that? AJ said that, “Cute sounds a touch girly. Guys would better be known as tough, rough, macho etc. So they would like if you find them cute but hate it if you say so in public. Male ego.” I say bullshit. I give nick names to all my friends who are really special to me, and prefer being called by my nick name only by them. That’s my way of showing that I care. That they are close to me. That they mean something to me. But no.. now I know how true it is that girls are from venus and boys are from mars. Huh. I mean girls love it if they are given a pet name, but boys… they smirk and make a face. I guess “boys will be boys.” Its not only very difficult to understand girls, but guys for me are incomprehensible as well.