Two happy lovers make one bread,
a single drop of moonlight on the grass,
Permit walking two shadows unite,
leave one sun empty in a bed.
Of all the truth they chose the day:
not they joined with wires, but with a flavor,
and not break the peace nor the words.
's the happiness a transparent tower.
Air, go with wine lovers,
gives him the night its petals happy
are entitled to all the carnations.
Two happy lovers have no end, nor death,
born and die many times through,
have the eternity of nature.
; Pablo Neruda
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