Full woman, fleshly apple, hot moon
thick smell of seaweed, crushed mud and light,
what obscure brilliance opens between your columns?
What ancient night does a man touch with his senses?Loving is a journey with water and with stars,
with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour:
loving is a clash of lightning-bolts
and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey.Kiss by kiss I move across your small infinity,
your borders, your rivers, your tiny villages
and the genital fire transformed into delightruns through the narrow pathways of the blood
until it plunges down, like a dark carnation,
until it is and is no more than a flash in the night.
En espanol
Plena mujer, manzana carnal, luna caliente,
espeso aroma de algas, lodo y luz machacados,
que oscura claridad se abre entre tus columnas?
Que antigua noche el hombre toca con sus sentidos?Ay, amar es un viaje con agua y con estrellas,
con aire ahogado y bruscas tempestades de harina:
amar es un combate de relampagos
y dos cuerpos por una sola miel derrotados.Beso a beso recorro tu pequeno infinito,
tus margenes, tus rios, tus pueblos diminutos,
y el fuego genital transformado en deliciacorre por los delgados caminos de la sangre
hasta precipitarse como un clavel nocturne
hasta ser y no ser sino un rayo en la sombra.
This is the perfect Valentine’s Gift for your love, by the way. Present in one of these days:
a) A copy of Neruda’s Love Sonnets
b) Call her and read the poem over the phone… and if you’re too bashful to do that, record yourself reading the poem (bathrooms provide the best acoustics) and text her the audio file.
c) Copy it out and slip it into her purse.
I’m realizing this is a somewhat sexist post, isn’t it? Change the pronouns as you will. I’ve gifted this poem to lovers of all genders. It is, after all, about them pleasuring and exploring ME…
m jane colette 