Sonnet+69



ANDREWmikol JUANflores Page 262 __Sonnet 69__

By Pablo Neruda __ Maybe nothingness is to be without your presence, without, slicing the noon like a blue flower, without you walking later through the fog and the cobbles,

without the light you carry in your hand, golden, which maybe others will not see, which maybe no one knew was growing like the red beginnings of a rose

In short, without your presence: without your coming suddenly, incitingly, to know my life, gust of a rosebush, wheat of wind:

since then I am because you are, since then you are, I am, we are, and through love I will be, you will be, we'll be.

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