Tonight is a long night, it is a sad night, And the music is playing

I can write the saddest poems tonight.

I love her, sometimes she loved me too.

Tonight is a long night, and I am sitting here longing for her.

On nights like these I want to held her in my arms.

I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky, and show her the beautiful white stars

She loved me sometimes, I am not sure if she loves me always.

Do I love her? how could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.

I can write the saddest poems tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.

It is a long night tonight

I look at the mirror, she was there I know, but not now.

Hear the vast night, vaster without her.

Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.

What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.

The night is fractured and she is not with me.

That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,

my soul is not content to have lost her.

As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.

My heart looks for her: she is not with me, she is not in the mirror

Was she there, I am not sure of that, I only have memory of

Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.

I love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her too much.

Love is brief, forgetting lasts so long.

Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,

my soul is not content to have lost her.

Though this is not the last pain she will make me suffer,

and these are the last lines I will write for her tonight.

Pablo Neruda Told by PRumi