raisinhearts

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

Wed, 31 May 2006 23:01:32 GMT

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

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pure beauty

Fri, 17 Mar 2006 06:20:38 GMT

I came across a couple in the park today; they were hugging each other while they were standing against his car. As I passed by them, his back was in my direction, but she was smiling at me.

Fri, 10 Mar 2006 00:08:02 GMT

And it all comes down to the last person you think about before you fall asleep.

Mon, 27 Feb 2006 03:00:10 GMT

Ok, so I made a livejournal and now you get the pleasure of reading my nonsensical ramblings about random shit that normal people shouldn't really care about. An appealing thought, huh?

I'll doubt I'll post much, if it all, because I have a slight case of not caring. :)