I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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2 comments:
I just saw this post and thats why the late comment. This is the poem that got me hooked onto Pablo Neruda. I remember some movie that had the lines and I went mad trying to figure out where they were from! Lovely reminder to a great poem..
A little known genius...words that stir the soul!!!
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