Pablo Neruda:
Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it:
a day is long and I will be waiting for you,
as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else,
asleep.
Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home
will drift into me, choking my lost heart.
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home
will drift into me, choking my lost heart.
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