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  • Sonnet XVII
  • friday poems by petePablo Nerudapoetry

Sonnet XVII



Sonnet XVII

By Pablo Neruda

I love you without knowing
how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly,
without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know
no other way than this:
where I does not exist nor you,
so close that your hand
on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close
as I fall asleep.

  • friday poems by petePablo Nerudapoetry