Xvii (I Do Not Love You...)

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.

Translated by Stephen Tapscott

Anonymous Submission

by Pablo Neruda

Comments (12)

They are the only documents Where people will discover Your beauty And my madness. You have shed your light of wisdom through these lines. Thank you poet for the poem shared.
Beautiful poem shared with us. Loved the way you write.
Lovely poem, it was an enjoyable read. Congratulations....
The light of the truth! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
I agree with what you've written. Keep writing. Thanks.
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