Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were 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

in which there is no I or you
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand
so intimate that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close

Pablo Neruda.. what can one say about him? theres a kind of intensity to him. Perhaps it was that generation, those revolutionary times, the hardhips of their lives. That kind of energy a person puts into himself and fellow beings, that passion, is so rare to come by. And when you see it, you cant just pass it by, it lifts you up, puts you into a spin and everything comfortably settled in us is churned, and put through the fire.

Rumi

The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.

Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,
they're in each other all along.



Rumi.. there's nothing to do but fall into the soul of his poems.