Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude.
\nYou’re also far, ah farther than anyone else.
\nThinking, releasing birds, fading images,
\nburying lamps.
\nBell Tower of mists, what far, up there!
\nDrowning cries, grinding bleak hopes,
\ntaciturn Miller,
\nIt will come from face to face the night, away from the city.<\/p>\n
Your presence is alien, strange to me as a thing.
\nI think, at length, the way my life before you.
\nMy life before anyone, my rough life.
\nThe cry sea among the stones,
\nrunning free, crazy, in the mist of the sea.
\nThe sad fury, the cry, the loneliness of the sea.
\nRunaway, violent, stretched toward the sky.<\/p>\n
You, woman, what eras there, what raya, which rod
\nfrom this immense fan? You were far away as it is now.
\nFire in the forest! Burns in blue crosses.
\nIt burns, Burns, it blazes, it sparkles in trees of light.
\nIt collapses, it crackles. Fire. Fire.<\/p>\n
And my soul dances fire chips wound.
\nWho’s calling? What silence echoes village?
\nNostalgia time, time of joy, time of loneliness,
\ntime mia among all!
\nSpeaker in that passes wind singing.
\nSo much passion of weeping knotted my body.<\/p>\n
Shaking all roots,
\nassault on all the waves!
\nFilming, happy, sad, endless, my soul.<\/p>\n
Thinking, burying lamps in deep solitude.
\nWho are you, who are you?
\nPABLO NERUDA<\/p>\n
(Translated using Bing, pardon errors, I myself am not fluent.)<\/p>\n
And in the original Spanish:<\/p>\n
Pensando, enredando sombras en la profunda soledad.
\nT\u00fa tambi\u00e9n est\u00e1s lejos, ah m\u00e1s lejos que nadie.
\nPensando, soltando p\u00e1jaros, desvaneciendo im\u00e1genes,
\nenterrando l\u00e1mparas.
\nCampanario de brumas, qu\u00e9 lejos, all\u00e1 arriba!
\nAhogando lamentos, moliendo esperanzas sombr\u00edas,
\nmolinero taciturno,
\nse te viene de bruces la noche, lejos de la ciudad.<\/p>\n
Tu presencia es ajena, extra\u00f1a a m\u00ed como una cosa.
\nPienso, camino largamente, mi vida antes de ti.
\nMi vida antes de nadie, mi \u00e1spera vida.
\nEl grito frente al mar, entre las piedras,
\ncorriendo libre, loco, en el vaho del mar.
\nLa furia triste, el grito, la soledad del mar.
\nDesbocado, violento, estirado hacia el cielo.<\/p>\n
T\u00fa, mujer, qu\u00e9 eras all\u00ed, qu\u00e9 raya, qu\u00e9 varilla
\nde ese abanico inmenso? Estabas lejos como ahora.
\nIncendio en el bosque! Arde en cruces azules.
\nArde, arde, llamea, chispea en \u00e1rboles de luz.
\nSe derrumba, crepita. Incendio. Incendio.<\/p>\n
Y mi alma baila herida de virutas de fuego.
\nQuien llama? Qu\u00e9 silencio poblado de ecos?
\nHora de la nostalgia, hora de la alegr\u00eda, hora de la soledad,
\nhora m\u00eda entre todas!
\nBocina en que el viento pasa cantando.
\nTanta pasi\u00f3n de llanto anudada a mi cuerpo.<\/p>\n
Sacudida de todas las ra\u00edces,
\nasalto de todas las olas!
\nRodaba, alegre, triste, interminable, mi alma.<\/p>\n
Pensando, enterrando l\u00e1mparas en la profunda soledad.
\nQui\u00e9n eres t\u00fa, qui\u00e9n eres?
\nPABLO NERUDA<\/p>\n