Like many people, my entire knowledge of Chilean poet Pablo Neruda comes from the lovely film Il Postino, about a postman in Italy who's only job is to bring Neruda mail from all his swooning female fans. As the friendship grew between the two men, the postman gains the confidence from Neruda's words to woo the woman he loves.
Power of words, eh? For some reason, I never tried to read Neruda afterwards. But this morning, in a Dorothy Parker inspired frenzy of reading, I stumbled across a few, and was particularly enraptured by "I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You." Talk about love that eats you alive.
I DO NOT LOVE YOU EXCEPT BECAUSE I LOVE YOU
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.