Here is a different kind of post for you. I wanted to post some of my inspiration to this blog, as well as posting my own work. Typically, I am not a romantic writer, although I am aware my writing has been rather relationship-based recently. In keeping with this, I wanted to post my favourite sonnet to share a piece of work that captured me a little, in a way that is definitely not usual for me.
Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda has always resonated with me as the ultimate expression of idealistic love. Whether or not this is a truth, sometimes I think it’s important to idealise. Personally, I feel it can dramatically realign us with ourselves, as long as we do not give an idealisation so much importance as to become an unnattainable goal. To this end, here is my favourite sonnet of all time. Feel free to agree, disagree or add your favourite love poem in the comments section. I look forward to your input.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
In secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
Thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
Risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
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 as your eyes close as I fall asleep.
– Pablo Neruda