Words by Pablo Neruda

-Crepusculario.
-I adore you in the sorrowful bones of dust and lime.
-My soul is an empty carousel at sunset.
-But the hour of vengeance falls, and I love you.
-Alone in the loneliness of this hour.
-Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold.
-Drunk with pines and long kisses.
-In the moist night my garment of kisses trembles, charged to insanity with electric currents, heroically divided into dreams and intoxicating roses practicing on me.
-Your parallel body yields to my arms like a fish infinitely fastened to my soul, quick and slow, in the energy under the sky.
-You arrive like the dew to the cupped flowers.
-Stories to tell you.
-The solitude crossed with dream and with silence.
-When I have reached the most awesome and the coldest summit my heart closes like a nocturnal flower.
-Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
-So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes.
-I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.
-Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
-You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations. Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.
-I loved him, and sometimes he loved me too.
-Love is so short, forgetting so long.
-Era la alegre hora del asalto y el beso.
-Cold flowers are raining over my heart.
-It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss. The hour of the spell that blazed like a light house.
-Turbulent drunkenness of love.
-It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour which the night fastens to all the timetables.
-Oh all that my spent heart can't embrace.
-It is a shipwreck in a void, with a surrounding of tears.
-dressed in chains and carnations.
-I am alone among rickety substances.
-Into the night of the heart.
-Boy, my advocate, my amorous one.
-You are like the beginning of autumn.
-There's an absence of flowers.
-Living dangerously like a heavy-headed lily of thick consistency.