Pablo Neruda’s ⁍ Sonnet 95

Whoever loved as we did? Let us hunt
for the ancient cinders of a heart that burned
and make our kisses fall one by one,
till that empty flower rises again.

Let us love the love that consumed its fruit and went
down, its image and its power, into the earth:
you and I are the light that endures,
its irrevocable delicate thorn.

Bring to that love, entombed by so much cold time,
by snow and spring, by oblivion and autumn,
the light of a new apple, light

of a freshness opened by a new wound,
like that ancient love that passes in silence
through an eternity of buried mouths.