The Wanderer and His Shadow

Sonnet 17

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose, topaz
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn't bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

yes that close
I love you without knowing how, or when or from where
I love you straightforwardly,
Without complexities or pride

I love you because I know no other way than this.
So close that your hand on my chest is my hand.
So close that when you close your eyes,
I fall asleep...

pablo neruda

posted by Pat @ 4:23 PM