Sep 25 2009
Sonnet 17
Sonnet 17
Pablo Neruda
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
in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close
(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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A friend has recently introduced me to Pablo Neruda and I must say, now I am a follower.
I wonder if he was good to his wife and those around him.
Like I said I don’t know that much about him yet.
I will soon…. Happy reading….