Poema 13,
de Pablo Neruda
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,
y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.
Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado
y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.
.
Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.
.
Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante.
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
Déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.
.
Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.
.
Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.
I like for
you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
and you
hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you.
It seems as
though your eyes had flown away
and it
seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth.
As all
things are filled with my soul
you emerge
from the things, filled with my soul.
You are
like my soul, a butterfly of dream,
and you are
like the word Melancholy.
I like for
you to be still, and you seem far away.
It sounds
as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove.
And you
hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you:
Let me come
to be still in your silence.
And let me
talk to you with your silence
that is
bright as a lamp, simple as a ring.
You are
like the night, with its stillness and constellations.
Your
silence is that of a star, as remote and candid.
I like for
you to be still: it is as though you were absent,
distant and
full of sorrow as though you had died.
One word
then, one smile, is enough.
And I am
happy, happy that it's not true.
