If man could say what he loves,
if the man could raise his love for
sky like a cloud in the light;
if you like walls that collapse,
to greet the truth straight in the middle, could bring down his
body
leaving only the truth of his love,
the truth of himself,
not called glory, wealth or ambition, but love or desire
,
imagined that I would;
one who, with his tongue, his eyes and his hands
proclaims to people the truth ignored
the truth about his true love. Freedom
not know but the freedom of being imprisoned in
someone whose name I can not hear without chill;nbsp; -Luis Cernuda
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