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Love

Because of you,
in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.

I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?

Because of you,
I love the white statues drowsing in the parks, the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of you.

I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will do me irreparable harm.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every window.

Because of you,
the heady perfumes of summer pain me;
because of you,
I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting stars, falling objects.

pablo neruda
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Comments

Anonymous said…
Beautiful :)ands
July 5, 2008 at 6:46 PM
nishi said…
right! he is a master of tragic romantic poetry!
u jus wish u had a heartbreak to send one of his poems to someone
July 5, 2008 at 7:24 PM
Anonymous said…
hehe... heartbreak....check....sending such a poem...no i don't think so, when that connection is lost, you no longer expect the other person to respect and understand what you feel
July 11, 2008 at 9:06 AM
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