March 24, 2012

love lirics

The morning is full of storm
In the heart of summer
The clouds travel like white handkerchiefs of goodbye
The wind, travelling, waving them in its hands
The numberless heart of the wind
Beating above our loving silence
Orchestral and Divine, resounding among the trees
Like a language full of wars and songs
Wind that bears off the dead leaves with a quick raid
And deflects the pulsing arrows of the birds
Wind that topples her in a wave without spray
And substance without weight and leaning fires
Her mass of kisses breaks and sinks
Assailed in the door of the summers wind

Pablo Neruda

Image by Petrova Julia. N via [lila] braga