National Poetry Month: Sonnet XVII

[brigdh]

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda. Translated by Stephen Tapscott

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.

Comments

[gen50.livejournal.com]

i put one poetry post because i would see your posts on poetry

in my only - so far - poetry post - i had 3
John Masefield's Sea Fever, EBB's How do I love thee,
and the same Pablo Neruda translated poetry that you just put up

that Neruda sonnet is really gorgeous.

i am tempted to put up another poetry post....
we will see. Probably put a Kahlil Gibran one for the next set.

thank you for inspiring me to post.... poetry that say something to me