in Poems (Love)
Before I loved you, love, nothing was my own:
I wavered through the streets, among
Objects:
Nothing mattered or had a name:
The world was made of air, which waited.

I knew rooms full of ashes,
Tunnels where the moon lived,
Rough warehouses that growled'get lost',
Questions that insisted in the sand.

Everything was empty, dead, mute,
Fallen abandoned, and decayed:
Inconceivably alien, it all

Belonged to someone else - to no one:
Till your beauty and your poverty
Filled the autumn plentiful with gifts.
from the book "" by Pablo Neruda
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    in Poems (Love, Author's Poems)
    I am not without you,
    that you are with me from the moment I wake until the moment I fall asleep,
    that it's you when the wind caresses me,
    that it's your voice I hear in the silence,
    you whom I see when I close my eyes,
    you who make me laugh and sing when I know no one else is around.
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      in Poems (Love, Author's Poems)

      Air And Angels

      Twice or thrice had I loved thee,
      Before I knew thy face or name;
      So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame,
      Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be;
      Still when, to where thou wert, I came,
      Some lovely glorious nothing I did see.
      But since my soul, whose child love is,
      Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do,
      More subtle than the parent is,
      Love must not be, but take a body too;
      And therefore what thou wert, and who,
      I bid love ask, and now
      That it assume thy body I allow,
      And fix itself to thy lip, eye, and brow.

      Whilst thus to ballast love I thought,
      And so more steadily to have gone,
      With wares which would sink admiration,
      I saw I had love's pinnace overfraught
      Every thy hair for love to work upon
      Is much too much, some fitter must be sought;
      For, nor in nothing, nor in things
      Extreme and scatt'ring bright, can love inhere.
      Then as an angel, face and wings
      Of air, not pure as it, yet pure doth wear,
      So thy love may be my love's sphere.
      Just such disparity
      As is'twixt air and angel's purity,
      'Twixt women's love and men's will ever be.
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        in Poems (Love, Author's Poems)

        Song For A Dark Girl

        Way Down South in Dixie
        (Break the heart of me)
        They hung my black young lover
        To a cross roads tree.

        Way Down South in Dixie
        (Bruised body high in air)
        I asked the white Lord Jesus
        What was the use of prayer.

        Way Down South in Dixie
        (Break the heart of me)
        Love is a naked shadow
        On a gnarled and naked tree.
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