Soneto XI – Pablo Neruda
Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
no me sostiene el pan, el alba me desquicia,
busco el sonido líquido de tus pies en el día.
Estoy hambriento de tu risa resbalada,
de tus manos color de furioso granero,
tengo hambre de la pálida piedra de tus uñas,
quiero comer tu piel como una intacta almendra.
Quiero comer el rayo quemado en tu hermosura,
la nariz soberana del arrogante rostro,
quiero comer la sombra fugaz de tus pestañas
y hambriento vengo y voy olfateando el crepúsculo
buscándote, buscando tu corazón caliente
como un puma en la soledad de Quitratúe.
—
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
(not sure who did this translation)
—
I am hungry of your mouth, your voice, your hair
and by the streets I go without nourishing itself,
shut up, does not maintain the bread to me, the dawn disturbs,
I look for the liquid sound to me of your feet in the day.
I am hungry of your laughter slide,
of your hands color of furious barn,
am hungry of the pale stone of your nails,
I want to eat your skin like an intact almond.
I want to eat the ray burned in your hermosura,
the sovereign nose of the arrogant face,
want to eat the fleeting shade of your eyelashes
and hungry I come and I am smelling the twilight buscándote,
looking for your hot heart
like puma in the solitude of Quitratúe.
(ahhh, Babelfish…)