Explore "Slow Lament" by Pablo Neruda on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Into the night of the heart your name drops slowly and moves in silence and falls and breaks and spreads its water.
Something wishes for its slight harm and its infinite and short esteem, like the step of a lost one suddenly heard.
Suddenly, suddenly listened to and spread in the heart with sad insistence and increase like a cold autumnal dream.
The thick wheel of the earth, its tire moist with oblivion, spins, cutting time into inaccessible halves.
Its hard goblets cover your heart spilt upon the cold earth with its poor blue sparks flying in the voice of the rain.