By: Pablo Neruda
From the depths of you, and kneeling,
a sad child, like me, gazes upon us.
For that life that will burn in his veins,
our lives should be bound.
For those hands, born of your hands,
mine should be killed by them.
For his eyes open in the earth,
I\'ll see tears in yours one day.
I don\'t want it, Beloved.
So that nothing ties us,
let nothing unite us.
Not the word that scented your mouth,
nor what the unspoken words didn\'t say.
Not the love feast we never had,
nor your sobs by the window.
(I love the love of sailors
who kiss and leave.
They leave a promise.
They never return.
In every port, a woman waits:
sailors kiss and leave.
One night they lie with death
in the bed of the sea).
I love, the love that is distributed
in kisses, bed, and bread.
Love that can be eternal
and can be fleeting.
Love that wants to break free
to love again.
Deified love that approaches
Deified love that departs.
My eyes will no longer enchant themselves in yours,
my pain will no longer sweeten next to you.
But wherever I go, I\'ll carry your gaze,
and wherever you walk, you\'ll carry my sorrow.
I was yours, you were mine. What more? Together,
we carved a turn in the road where love passed.
I was yours, you were mine. You\'ll belong to whoever loves you,
to the one who reaps in your garden what I have sown.
I\'m leaving. I\'m sad: but I\'m always sad.
I come from your arms. I don\'t know where I\'m going.
...From your heart, a child says goodbye to me.
And I bid him farewell.