I Don’t Love You As If You Were A Rose

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I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnation that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the light aroma that arose
from earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you directly without problems or pride;
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form which I am not nor are you,
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

- Pablo Neruda

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Filed under Neruda, love, poetry