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Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude. You are far away too, oh farther than anyone. Thinking, freeing birds, dissolving images, burying lamps.... |






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Your presence is foreign, as strange to me as a thing. I think, I explore great tracts of my life before you. My life before anyone, my harsh life.... |








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The shout facing the sea, among the rocks, running free, mad, in the sea spray. The sad rage, the shout, the solitude of the sea. Headlong, violent, stretched toward the sky... |








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Se derrumba, crepita. Incendio. Incendio. Y mi alma baila herida de virutas de fuego. Quien Ilama? Que silencio poblado de ecos? Hora de nostalgia, hora de alegria, hora de la soledad, hora mia entre todas!
Pablo Neruda |









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