You Would Come Pablo Neruda

You have not made me suffer,
merely wait.

Those tangled
hours, filled
with serpents,
when my heart stopped and I stifled,
you would come along,
you would come naked and scratched,
bleeding you would reach my bed,
my bride,
and then
all night we walked
sleeping
and when we woke up
you were intact and new,
as if the dark wind of dreams
had newly given
fire to your tresses
and in wheat and silver had submerged
your body and left it dazzling.

I did not suffer, my love,
I was only waiting for you.
You had to change heart
and vision
after having touched the deep
sea zone that my beast gave to you.
You had to leave the water
pure as a drop raised
by a night wave.