neonautomaton:

Every day you play with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water.
You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
as a cluster of fruit, every day, between my hands.

You are like nobody since I love you.
Let me spread you out…

# right so the thing about neruda # that has to be like acknowledged and appreciated whether you like him or not # is that these are the translations of his works from the original spanish # (and it is a great tragedy of my life that i never learned spanish) # (because even if i learned it now i would probably never understand the subtle nuance here) # but my point is: this is the translation # this is the translation at it’s still # ‘i want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees’ # it’s still ‘the sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish’ # it’s still ‘you gather things to you like an old road’ # (which is from ‘your breast is enough’ fyi - go read that) # the brilliant impossible amazing thing about neruda is that he captures # the very essence of human existence # by painting it using the existence of everything else as brush and pigment # and it’s beautiful # and it’s brilliant # and it’s transcendent in every language

“I want to do with you what the spring does with the cherry trees.”

I just. That line.

If I could write ONE sentence as beautiful as that one in my life, I would count myself accomplished.

But, seriously, this poem.