Love Song by Pablo Neruda — Read

I love you, I love you, is my song and here my silliness begins.

I love you, I love you my lung,

I love you, I love you my wild grapevine, and if love is like wine: you are my predilection from your hands to your feet: you are the wineglass of hereafter and my bottle of destiny.

I love you forwards and backwards, and I don't have the tone or timbre to sing you my song, my endless song.

On my violin that sings out of tune my violin declares,

I love you, I love you my double bass, my sweet woman, dark and clear, my heart, my teeth, my light and my spoon, my salt of the dim week, my clear windowpane moon.