The longest silences are blue
All the unheard sighs settle in stones
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars,
And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.”
Distant clouds hide their simplicity
in fields of hope
The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.
The night sky whirls in the wind
its surprise and weeps.
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
She was a wild woman; I, a violent man
She knew the stubbornness of tears
I knew the weight of sleep.
On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.
Our mouths postponed day fall
and the silence of time.
On nights like this, we undressed our shadows
I was hers and she was mine
Painting with nakedness the sky
We were each other passion for falling
Our arms kept on crushing
the same way the same day
this forgetful undying.
*That’s all. Far away someone sings. Far away.
a poem from a series of what I call poetic dialogues with some of my favorite poets. for now Pablo Neruda and his "Saddest Poem"