The not-happening was so sudden
that I stayed there for ever,
without knowing,
without their knowing me,
as if I were under a chair,
as if I were lost in the night-
so was that which was not,
and so have I stayed for ever.
I asked the others after,
the women and the men,
what they were doing with such confidence
and how they had learned their living;
they did not actually answer,
they went on dancing and living.
It is what has not happened to one
that determines the silence,
and I don’t want to go on speaking
because I stayed their waiting;
in that place and on that day
I have no idea what happeened
but now I am not the same.
//Pablo Neruda, La Soledad (Loneliness)
