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.

by Pablo Neruda

Comments (2)

Hi there The poem is so true. Every man and women hopes for something. Though those who refuse to see the beauty of the nature of hope claims that humans are just never satisfied, I strongly believe that hope is a very powerful driving force that keeps us going. Well observed indeed! Though not all college students long for a more generous boyfriend (I long for one that cares for me instead; -))
hi! your poem was beautyful. I read it right now, and I think it was inspirational. if my english isn't very proper it may be because I am from Norway and not an english expert. anyway, the poem was wonderful!