Sonnet XVII: Love

This is a picture of the new stadium in Arizona that the Cleveland Indians play in now during spring training.
It just opened up this week and my parents are there for spring training.
My dad keeps sending me pictures......lots of pictures.
hope you enjoy the poem below...very beautiful.
peace,
Michele



XVII
I don ’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,

or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:

I love you as one loves certain obscure things,

secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries

the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,

and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose

from the earth lives dimly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or

from whereI love you directly without problems or pride:

I love you like this because I don’t know any other way

to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,

so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

—Translated and © Mark Eisner 2004, from City Lights' The Essential Neruda