So XVII
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of ations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
i, 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 plexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does , 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
(ò﹏ò)
抱歉,章节内容不支持该浏览器显示~
【为了使用完整的阅读功能】
请考虑使用〔Chrome 谷歌浏览器〕、〔Safari 苹果浏览器〕或者〔Edge 微软浏览器〕等原生浏览器阅读!
谢谢!!!
Sonnet XI点赞目录+书签Sonnet XXXIV (You are the daughter of the sea)