LOVE SONNET XVII

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.

~Pablo Neruda

ZONGS OF ZAMZARA