Sonnet XXI - Pablo Neruda

If only love would spread its savor through me!
--not to go one moment without spring!
What I sold into sorrow was only my hands,
dearest: now leave me with your kisses.
Shut out the month’s light with your fragrance;
close all the doors with your hair.
Only do not forget, if I wake up crying
it’s only in my dreams I’m a lost child
hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands,
for your caresses like the wheat,
the flashing rapture of shadow and energy.
O my dearest, nothing but shadow there
where you walk with me through your dream:
you tell me when the light returns.

(From 100 Love Sonnets, Morning, SONNET XXI, by Pablo Neruda)

(Translated by Stephen Tapscott)