Pablo Neruda
228 citations

Each in the most hidden sack kept the lost jewels of memory, intense love, secret nights and permanent kisses, the fragment of public or private happiness. A few, the wolves, collected thighs, other men loved the dawn scratching mountain ranges or ice floes, locomotives, numbers. For me happiness was to share singing, praising, cursing, crying with a thousand eyes. I ask forgiveness for my bad ways: my life had no use on earth. ✨ Pablo Neruda (1984). Still Another Day, Port Townsend : Copper Canyon Press

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LifeLoveSadness

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