nothing like the sun
For my final post on this blog, which has so kindly allowed me to grace its pages with my unhinged tangents, I wanted to talk about poetry - perhaps one of my favorite forms of literature. In class we read one of Shakespeare's sonnets, "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun." This poem immediately stood out to me because it is very similar to what may be my favorite poem of Pablo Neruda (I may say that about many other poems of his, but this time I mean it), which is coincidentally also a sonnet. In its original: No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio o flecha de claveles que propagan el fuego: te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras, secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma. Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores, y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra. Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde, te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo: as
