Woman, I have become your son, by drinking
The milk from your breasts as if from a spring,
By looking at you and feeling you by my side and to have you
In the laughter of gold and in the voice of crystal.
By feeling you in my veins like God in the rivers
And adoring you in sad bones of dust and lime,
Because you passed by my side without pain
And left through the strophe—clean of everything bad—
How would I know to love you, woman, how would I know
To love you, love you as nobody knew never before!
Dying and still
To love you more.
To love you more
Pablo Neruda, 1923
Incluido en spanishpoetryintranslation.blogspot.com.es