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Hence, Himachal!

Everyone is missing someone;

I'm translating the silence here.

🔻

D.A.

#india #mountains #manali #himachal pradesh #forest #travel #hiking

Hence, Himachal!

Everyone is missing someone;

I'm translating the silence here.

🔻

D.A.

#doyeedt #beauty #mountains #man #village #malana #india #himachal pradesh

Hence, Himachal!

Everyone is missing someone;

I'm translating the silence here.

🔻

D.A.

#doyeedt #portrait #himachal pradesh #india #mountains #rural #women

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

Saudade

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

🔻

Pablo Neruda

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