‘Perhaps not to be is to be without your being.’ Pablo Neruda

Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going, that cuts noon light
like a blue flower, without your passing
later through fog and stones,
without the torch you lift in your hand
that others may not see as golden,
that perhaps no one believed blossomed
the glowing origin of the rose,
without, in the end, your being, your coming
suddenly, inspiringly, to know my life,
blaze of the rose-tree, wheat of the breeze:
and it follows that I am, because you are:
it follows from ‘you are’, that I am, and we:
and, because of love, you will, I will,
We will, come to be. 

By:  Pablo Neruda
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It's Time

It’s time, my friend: it’s time! The heart wants rest

the days slip by, the hours take away

fragments of our life: and you and I

plan how to live and, – just like that – we die.

No happiness on earth, yet there’s freedom, peace.

I’ve long dreamt of an enviable fate –

I’ve long thought, a weary slave, to fly

to some far place of labour and true joy.

 

By:  Alexander Pushkin

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