Tuesday, March 15, 2011

poetry by Pablo Neruda


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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. 

4 comments:

  1. Very nice, beautiful poetry,I adore Pablo Neruda.
    Happy Tuesday dear Maria.

    ReplyDelete
  2. wonderful pairing of image & poem. glad about your comment. hope you are doing well. when I visit your blog I love reading your words in "about me" on the right...hugs to Maria from Maria :-)

    ReplyDelete

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