Sunday, March 12, 2006


Pablo Neruda

When I die, I want your hands on my eyes:
I want the light and wheat of your beloved hands
to pass their freshness over me once more:
I want to feel the softness that changed my destiny.

I want you to live while I wait for you, asleep.
I want your ears still to hear the wind, I want you
to sniff the sea's aroma that we loved together,
to continue to walk on the sand we walked on.

I want what I love to continue to live,
and you whom I love and sang above everything else
to continue to flourish, full-flowered:

so that you can reach everything my love directs you to,
so that my shadow can travel along in your hair,
so that everything can learn the reason for my song.

I miss you Lola. We miss you. Everything's just so different without you. I understand that you're still there and that no love was lost because you continue to live in us. And we continue to live with thoughts of you. I can feel you looking after us, wanting nothing but the best for us. Thank you. I comfort myself with the idea of knowing that you're happy where you are now. I just want you to know that I remember you - the goodness of your heart, the boldness of your spirit and the gentleness of your soul. I love you...


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