I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I want to do to you what spring does with the cherry trees.
When I die I want your hands on my eyes.
Tell me, is the rose naked or is that her only dress?
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
So close that your hand upon my chest is mine, so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
The night is starry and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.
Twice beautiful is beauty and what is good is doubly. good