Sonnet 27 (from Cien Sonetos de Amor)
Naked, you are simple, like one of your hands,
smooth, humble, earthly, transparent, and full,
with curves of the moon, and pathways of apple,
naked, you are slender as a husked grain.
Naked, you are blue as the nighttime in Cuba,
with vines and starlight trellised in your hair,
Naked, you are spacious and amber-colored,
like summer inside a chapel of gold.
Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails,
curved and fine, rubescent as the sunrise
when you withdraw again to your underground world
as though through a tunnel of clothes and errands:
your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
and you turn, once again, into a naked hand.
Pablo NerudaTranslated from Spanish by Paul Weinfield, © 2014