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I daydream constantly. Essentially, that's what I do for a living. Lilith is asleep, so I'm getting some work done tonight. While I was typing, I started thinking about poems that have moved me throughout my life... in particular, poems that make me think of my husband, and how much I love him. And I remembered...

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.


( 15 comments — Leave a comment )
Mar. 2nd, 2009 05:13 am (UTC)
NERUDA!!! <3

Oh, I adore that poem . . . thank you for reminding me of that!


-- A <3
Mar. 2nd, 2009 05:14 am (UTC)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 05:15 am (UTC)
I *love* that poem, and any with the same sort of rhythm or mood. Who is this by?
Mar. 2nd, 2009 05:18 am (UTC)
Pablo Neruda. =)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 06:00 am (UTC)
Yay Pablo Neruda. One of my favorites by him.
Mar. 2nd, 2009 06:49 am (UTC)
That is bar none my favorite love poem. Neruda was really, really good. This one brought tears to my eyes when I first read it. It's so perfect a summation of a particular feeling.
Mar. 2nd, 2009 06:56 am (UTC)
The first literary flower of Spring to come. Thank you. :-)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 11:09 am (UTC)
That's beautiful :)

When I was going through the great depression o' 96 I had this poem taped to my fridge (by the great Dorothy Parker). I can still recite it by memory and it, surprisingly, got me through the sludge. It's wonderful how other people's words can have such a profound effect on others. I wish I had that gift.

The Small Hours

No more my little song comes back
And now of nights I lay
My head on down to watch the black
And wait the unfailing gray.

Oh, sad are winter nights, and slow
And sad's a song that's dumb
And sad it is to lie and know
Another dawn will come.

Mar. 2nd, 2009 12:55 pm (UTC)
I love that poem. I posted it to my LJ a few weeks ago for Valentine's day, so I think it's in the general unconscious right now. (I've seen it a few places since then, so at least I know it's in my unconscious.)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 01:20 pm (UTC)
That's a beautiful poem! Very sweet.
Mar. 2nd, 2009 01:54 pm (UTC)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 02:07 pm (UTC)
That has long been a favorite of mine! Thank you for reminding me of how much I love it, as well as my own darling...
Mar. 2nd, 2009 04:12 pm (UTC)
That's beautiful!

My own favorite love poem:


Marriage is not
a house, or even a tent

It is before that, and colder:

the edge of the forest, the edge
of the desert
the unpainted stairs
at the back, where we squat
outdoors, eating popcorn
where painfully and with wonder
at having survived
this far

we are learning to make fire.
--Margaret Atwood

Edited at 2009-03-02 04:14 pm (UTC)
Mar. 2nd, 2009 07:23 pm (UTC)
oh wow i could feel that poem.
Mar. 2nd, 2009 11:53 pm (UTC)
Ah...Neruda. One of my absolute favorites. *sigh*

My roommate has this I love you because I know no other way tattoo'd on her wrist.
( 15 comments — Leave a comment )