Woman ripe, carnal apple, sultry moon,
thick aroma of seaweed, mud and light mashed together,
what obscure clarity opens between your columns?
What night of ancient arousal does man touch with all his senses?
Ah, to love is an excursion with water and with stars,
with suffocated air and brusque whirlwinds of flour:
to love is lightning combat in continuous flashes
and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey.
From kiss to kiss I travel across your small infinity,
your borders, your rivers, your diminutive villages,
and the genital fire transformed into delight
runs through the slender roadways of the blood
until it rushes to open itself like a nocturnal carnation,
until it is and is nothing but a glistening sweetness in your shadow.
Pablo Neruda (1904 - 1973) Chile
Translated by Alex Sawit
Source: Cyrano Friends
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