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

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 [...]

Right, comrade, it’s the hour of the garden

Right, comrade, it’s the hour of the garden
and the hour up in arms, each day
follows from flower or blood:
our time surrenders us to [...]