Neruda.

[levity]

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 if my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all.
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.