pablo neruda

bi’ $iiri vardır ki, ayrı$tırır insanı, $öyledir:

i do not love you as if you were the saltrose, topaz or arrow of
carnations that propagate fire;
i love you as certain dark things are loved secretly, between the
shadow and the soul.
i love you as the plant that does not bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers;
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.
i love you wit
i love you without knowing how, or
when, or from where, i love you simply,
without problems or pride:
i love you in this way because i don’t
know any other way of loving but this,
in which there is no i or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest
is my hand,
so intimate that when i fall to asleep
it is your eyes that close.