Clenched Soul

We have lost even this
twilight.
No one saw us this
evening hand in hand
while the blue night
dropped on the world.
I have seen from my
window
the fiesta of sunset in
the distant mountain
tops.
Sometimes a piece of
sun
burned like a coin in my
hand.
I remembered you with
my soul clenched
in that sadness of mine
that you know.
Where were you then?
Who else was there?
Saying what?
Why will the whole of
love come on me
suddenly
when I am sad and feel
you are far away?
The book fell that
always closed at
twilight
and my blue sweater
rolled like a hurt dog at
my feet.
Always, always you
recede through the
evenings
toward the twilight
erasing statues.

- Pablo Neruda