Pablo Neruda Poem

Where is the child I was,

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Where is the child I was,
still inside me or gone?

Does he know that I never loved him
and that he never loved me?

Why did we spend so much time·
growing up only to separate?

Why did we both not die
when my childhood died?

And why does my skeleton pursue me
if my soul has fallen away?

Is the yellow of the forest
Who was she who made love to you

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