Afterwards
my decision encountered you
and from the rupture
that was breaking our hearts
we came forth clean again naked
loving each other,
without dream, without sad,
complete and radiant,
sealed by fire.

Because of the unknowable, life means something.
When everything is known, then everything is flat. You will be fed up, bored.

When the body functions spontaneously that is the instinct
When the soul funcions spontaeously that is called the intuition.

Intuition, Osho

Night on an Island

All night I have slept with you 
Next to the sea, on the island. 
Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, 
Between fire and water. 

Perhaps very late 
Our dreams joined 
At the top or at the bottom, 
Up above like branches moved by a common wind, 
Down below like red roots that touch. 

Perhaps your dream 
Drifted from mine 
And through the dark sea 
Was seeking me 
As before, 
When you did not yet exist, 
When without sighting you 
I sailed by your side, 
And your eyes sought 
What now – 
Bread, wine, love, and anger – 
I heap upon you 
Because you are the cup 
That was waiting for the gifts of my life. 

I have slept with you 
All night long while 
The dark earth spins 
With the living and the dead, 
And on waking suddenly 
In the midst of the shadow 
My arm encircled your waist. 
Neither night nor sleep 
Could separate us. 

I have slept with you 
And on waking, your mouth, 
Come from your dream, 
Gave me the taste of earth, 
Of sea water, of seaweed, 
Of the depths of your life, 
And I received your kiss 
Moistened by the dawn 
As if it came to me 
From the sea that surrounds us. 

Absence

I have scarcely left you
When you go in me, crystalline,
Or trembling,
Or uneasy, wounded by me
Or overwhelmed with love, as
when your eyes
Close upon the gift of life
That without cease I give you.

My love,
We have found each other
Thirsty and we have
Drunk up all the water and the
Blood,
We found each other
Hungry
And we bit each other
As fire bites,
Leaving wounds in us.

But wait for me,
Keep for me your sweetness.
I will give you too
A rose. 

Pablo Neruda

Estas Flores

Mujer de corazon quemado,
que caminas junto a mi en esta jornada,
que tu mano reciba las flores de este ramo,
unas rojas flores, lo siento si no son flores pobres
de esta tierra dura tierra dura,
pero recibelas de mis manos como si hubieran sido halladas en la mina mas honda,
como si hubieran crecido entre la milpa
o entre el frijol, estas flores y estas frutas hijas del agua
y del trabajo de la gente del campo
estas flores d perfume y espinas
de petalos profundos.

supe al mirarlas que son para Ti
vienen de mi pobreza
y de mi fortaleza florecida, el ramo
de la ternura y mis ganas de escucharte.

Flores para que esten en mi lugar
al lado de la cama, espero que una
de estas noches, el
aroma de estas flores y el tuyo
me guien para regresar desde lejos.

Siempre

Antes de ti
no tengo celos.

Ven con un hombre
a la espalda,
ven con cien hombres en tu cabellera,
ven con mil hombres entre tu pecho y tus
pies,
ven con un rio
lleno de ahogados
que encuentra el mar furioso,
la espuma eterna, el tiempo.

Traelos todos
adonde yo te espero:
siempre estaremos solos,
siempre estaremos tu y yo
solos sobre la tierra
para comenzar la vida.

Your Feet

When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me. 

Pablo Neruda