Pablo Neruda

Because of you, in gardens of blossoming

Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.

I have forgotten your face, I no longer

Remember your hands; how did your lips

Feel on mine?

.

Because of you, I love the white statues

Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that

Have neither voice nor sight.

.

I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;

I have forgotten your eyes.

.

Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to

My vague memory of you. I live with pain

That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will

Make to me an irreperable harm.

.

Your caresses enfold me, like climbing

Vines on melancholy walls.

.

I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to

Glimpse you in every window.

.

Because of you, the heady perfumes of

Summer pain me; because of you,

I again Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:

Shooting stars, falling objects.