ese Passwort ir) Aicanea eunbarEloassuc? |ASang Of Despi by Pat Nena
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Sins
Et saan Scppor Hea ttis misston
Pablo Neruda (12 July 1904-23 september 1973 /Parral | Chile) oe TOU
Fe ook cosas cts sas ts FOR BET
TOMORF
ASong Of Despair
“Tha amar f you emerges rom the ght round me
Deter tke the wharves a da,
isthe hour of pare, oh dsered one!
bg over my ho
bh you tne wars an the tgs aecomulte,
From yu tho wngs ofthe song brs rose.
You swallowed eveything the cstance
Lite the 69, he tine n you everyting sank!
‘vas the happy hour of ask and Ie Ks oom ant”
‘The hour oth spellthatbszsd Ike a phhouse [ ote Fost
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Plots dread, tury of bina ave, [sur gt Aono
turbulent drunkenness of ve, you everything Sek! snag
Lost coverer in you everthing sank De Tapan Kier Prashan
Langton ghee
You gles sorrow you clung te dese,
‘anes stunned you, you everyting sank
beyond dose and a, waka on
(On fash, my own floss, woran whom loved anos,
| eureon youn the lst nour, rales ay song to you.
‘Thor was the back soltude of he lands,
‘and hore, woman of ove, your arms tok ms
14 hunger, end you were the
‘2 woman, 130 not know how you eal ont mo
inthe earth of your soul in th eos of your arms
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How tombe ang bit my ce was you! tava‘Comstary oisas, here i roi your tombs,
tthe utes boughs bum, packed at by ds
‘Om he bitten mouth, oh the sed tbs,
‘othe hungerng tet, ah the ented boss 2 Drama
‘Oh the mad coupling of hope an force ° Eagar en Poa
fn wnch we merge and cespted. se
‘Ad he landers, ight a8 waar and a Noe » Stapangby Woods on Samy Bre
‘nd he word searcely begun on hep. okontiot
2 oon th Caged Beae
“This was my destiny and in twas my voyage of my longing, vee
‘2 nity longing fen you everyting sank! > aateney
On pt of debs, everyting eine you,
hat sorow dd you not press, in what svtoware you na eoune ‘The Compe Lit of Top 60 Poume»
From iow obtow you sillcald and sang
Standing ike a sll in tho prow of vessel
You si oweredin songs, you sti rk he uments,
Cn pit of debris pen an ter we
Pale bind der, luce sage
bt elscovere, nyu everyting sank
isthe hour of parr, te hd colt hour
hic the night asters oa the metals.
‘The rusting elo te 2a gas he shore
‘Cot sars heave up, blac ids migrate
Deserted ke the wharves at da,
Cnty tremulous shacow tts nny hand,
Ch farther han everyting h farthr than everyting
isthe hour of departure, Oh abandoned one!
Pablo Neruda
‘What do you think this poemis about?
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