Sonnet 17 - Pablo Neruda

i love Pablo Neruda, and made me love him even more when i got to watch Patch Adams. awww. although they have been telling of some poetic licence of some sort. it doesn't matter. i love it.

I do not love you as if you were the 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.

i kept this sonnet posted on my notebook for five years. :( i missed that note.


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