Sonnet V of Pablo Neruda's One Hundred Sonnets of Love.
Anyone that can help, please do.
I did not touch your night, or your air, or dawn:
only the earth, the truth of the fruit on clusters,
the apples that swell as they drink the sweet water,
the clay and the resins of your sweet-smelling land.
From Quinchamali where your eyes began,
to the Frontera where your feet were made for me,
you are my dark familiar clay: touching your hips,
I touch the wheat in its fields again.
Woman from Arauco, maybe you didn't know
how before I loved you, I forgot your kisses.
But my heart went on, remembering your mouth - and I went on
and on through the streets like a man wounded,
until I understood, Love: I had found
my place, a land of kisses and volcanoes.
2007-02-19
10:11:07
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4 answers
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AprilHeartsNeruda
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