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Here's my own translation, while we're at it: I wouldn't love you if you were a white rose, or topaz, Or a carnation's fletching which spreads on fire: I love you like certain uncertain things, Secretly, amid wholeness and heart. I love you like the plant that doesn't bloom but has Within it, hidden, the life of other ones, and thanks to your love what lives within me is the kissed scent that it lifted from the earth. I love you not knowing how, when or whence, I love you right ahead without worries or pride: So I love you for I don't know how else to. But here in this way that I'm not and you're not, so close that your hand on my chest is my own, so close that your eyes are closed in my sleep.