Pablo Neruda - XLVIII

Two happy lovers make one bread, A single moon drop in the grass. Walking, they cast two shadows that flow together; Waking, they leave one sun empty in their bed. Of all the possible truths, they chose the day; They held it, not with ropes but with an aroma. They did not shred the peace; they did not shatter words; Their happiness is a transparent tower. The air and wine accompany the lovers. The night delights them with its joyous petals. They have a right to all the carnations. Two happy lovers, without an ending, with no death, They are born, they die, many times while they live: They have the eternal life of the Natural. Pablo Neruda, XLVIII (Translated by Stephen Tapscott) Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T