i must have read it a million times, perhaps. i'm rereading it again.i've watched the movie ( an d hannah gave it to me recently as a birthday gift). albert and i used to watch it over and over. he even lost my sister noreene's dvd. but he did replace it with a new one. now, i decided to read it again:
the notebook by nicholas sparks. and no matter how many times, i read it...it still puts a dagger in my heart. i still cry.
"...they didn't agree on much...
in fact they didn't agree on anything...
they fought all the time,
and they challenged each other everyday...
but despite their differences,
they had one important thing in common......
they were crazy about each other..."
- the notebook
[truth is, it reminds me so much of me and ron.
up to this day, this is how our relationship goes.
maybe, that's why i am hooked to the book
because i can relate. =(]
Labels: book, love, movie lines
"Tonight I Can Write"
By Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, "The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance."
The night wind revovles in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again, and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes, I loved her too.
He could one not have loved her great still eyes?
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her.
To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing.
In the distance.
My souls is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tried to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
WE, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's.
As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain,but maybe I love her.
Love is short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
Labels: book, brokenheartedness, love, poetry
