Sonet XVII

Nu te iubesc chiar daca
tu ai fi un trandafir sarat, sau topaz,
sau o sageata de garoafe
pe care focul o trimite.
Te iubesc cu o certitudine intunecata
caci lucrurile sunt create sa fie iubite,
in secret, intre umbra si suflet.
Te iubesc ca planta care niciodata nu infloreste
care pastreaza in sine lumina florilor ascunse.
Multumesc iubirii tale, solid si cert parfum
ce rasare din pamant
si traieste in intuneric, in sufletul meu.
Te iubesc fara sa stiu cum si cand, sau poate unde
Te iubesc in mod direct, fara sa retrogradez,
fara complexe sau mandrie;
Te iubesc pentru ca stiu,
ca aceasta este singura cale:
Unde eu nu exist, nici tu,
atat de aproape, incat mana ta
pe pieptul meu este mana mea,
atat de aproape, incat ochii tai inchisi,
ma adorm pe mine.

(Pablo Neruda)

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were a 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.

(Pablo Neruda)