Amor by Pablo Neruda

Mujer, yo hubiera sido tu hijo, por beberte la leche de los senos como de un manantial, por mirarte y sentirte a mi lado y tenerte en la risa de oro y la voz de cristal. Por sentirte en mis venas como Dios en los ríos y adorarte en los tristes huesos de polvo y cal, porque tu ser pasara sin pena al lado mío y saliera en la estrofa —limpio de todo mal—. Cómo sabría amarte, mujer como sabría amarte, amarte como nadie supo jamás! Morir y todavía amarte más. Y todavía amarre más y más.

Love (literal translation of Pablo Neruda’s poem)

Woman, I would have been your son, to drink the milk from your breasts as if from a spring, to look at you and feel you at my side and have you in the golden laughter and the crystal voice. To feel you in my veins like God in the rivers and to adore you in the sad bones of dust and lime, so that your being would pass without pain at my side, and would emerge in the stanza —cleansed of all evil—. How I would know how to love you, woman, how I would know how to love you, love you as no one ever knew how! To die and still love you more. And still tie you more and more.