Sonnet 17- Pablo Neruda

I don't love you as if you were the 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 shadows & the soul

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the flight of hidden flowers
Thanks for your love a certain social fragrance
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body

I love you without knowing now or when, or from where
I love you straight forwardly 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 in my hand,
So close that your eyes close as I fall asleep :)

MeAnn, Thanks for this one!