The fantastic world of Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Poem 14, to Pablo Neruda.


Solar Flare

Isle Esme

Poetry is you.

Bella

"Mmm, Edward that was delicious…" I sighed.

"I figured you´d appreciate a break from all the eggs." he whispered, caressing my cheek.

"Thank you."

"Would you like to go back to bed?" he said tenderly and my heart went wild. "I mean to rest, love, it´s late," He added, dazzling me with his most beautiful crooked smile.

"No, I´m not tired." I said, stifling a yawn. He chuckled.

"Ok. What would you like to do?" he asked, gazing into my eyes fixedly, his smile unwavering.

"How about a short stroll down the beach, watch the stars, talk… Mmm… a little love… What?" He was looking funnily at me.

"It seems than you can read my mind. I was just listing activities while I made dinner… and that was very much what I thought I´d like to do."

"Well, great minds think alike."

"Indeed" He said mischievously.

The night was warm but Edward insisted on bringing a blanket for me. We walked slowly, enjoying the sea breeze, and the calming sounds of the tide. The moon was yet to make its appearance and the endless amount of visible stars was awe inspiring.

"Edward?"

"Yes, love."

"Talk to me."

"Ok. About what?"

"Mmm… anything. I love your voice, I just want to hear you."

He paused, cradled my face in his hands, looked into my eyes for a moment, and bent down to plant a soft kiss on my lips. Too soon his lips left mine and we resumed walking as Edward began to speak.

"You play every day with the light of the universe.
Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and in water.
You are more than this little white head I clasp
like a cluster between my hands each day.

"You resembled no-one since I love you.
Let me lay you down among yellow garlands.
Who writes your name with letters of smoke among the southern stars?
Ah, let me remember you as you were then, when you did not yet exist.

"Suddenly the wind howls and bangs against my closed window.
The sky is a net curdled with somber fish.
All the winds end up here, all of them.
The rain undresses.

"The birds pass by, running away.
The wind. The wind.
I can struggle only against the strength of men.
The storm swirls dark leaves around
and sets free all the boats that last night were moored to the sky.

"You are here. Ah, you do not run away.
You will respond to me to the last cry.
Curl up next to me as if you were afraid.
Even though from time to time a strange shadow crossed your eyes.

"Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckles,
and even your breasts are perfumed.
While the sad wind gallops, killing butterflies,
I love you, and my happiness takes a bite from your plum-shaped mouth.

"How much it must have hurt you getting used to me,
to my lonely and savage soul, to my name that everybody drives away.
We've seen, many times, the bright star burn as it kisses our eyes,
And over our heads, twilights untwist in twirling fans.

"My words rained upon you, caressing you.
I've loved for so long your body of sunned mother-of-pearl.
I even believe you the owner of the universe.
From the mountains I'll bring you happy flowers,
copihues,
dark hazels, and wild baskets of kisses.
I want to do with you
what spring does with cherry trees."

"That´s so beautiful Edward! What´s it called?"

"Yes, I think so too, that was Pablo Neruda´s Poem 14. He was a Chilean writer, so that was a translation, the original is much better." His smooth fingers wiped away the tears that ran freely down my cheeks.

"Do you know it in Spanish?"

"Yes."

"Recite it to me"

"Really?"

"Please"

He sighed deeply and begun.

"Juegas todos los días con la luz del universo.
Sutil visitadora, llegas en la flor y en el agua.
Eres más que esta blanca cabecita que aprieto
como un racimo entre mis manos cada día.

"A nadie te pareces desde que yo te amo.
Déjame tenderte entre guirnaldas amarillas.
Quién escribe tu nombre con letras de humo entre las estrellas del sur?
Ah déjame recordarte como eras entonces cuando aún no existías.

"De pronto el viento aúlla y golpea mi ventana cerrada.
El cielo es una red cuajada de peces sombríos.
Aquí vienen a dar todos los vientos, todos.
Se desviste la lluvia.

"Pasan huyendo los pájaros.
El viento. El viento.
Yo solo puedo luchar contra la fuerza de los hombres.
El temporal arremolina hojas oscuras
y suelta todas las barcas que anoche amarraron al cielo.

"Tú estás aquí. Ah tú no huyes
Tú me responderás hasta el último grito.
Ovíllate a mi lado como si tuvieras miedo.
Sin embargo alguna vez corrió una sombra extraña por tus ojos.

"Ahora, ahora también, pequeña, me traes madreselvas,
y tienes hasta los senos perfumados.
Mientras el viento triste galopa matando mariposas
yo te amo, y mi alegría muerde tu boca de ciruela.

"Cuanto te habrá dolido acostumbrarte a mí,
a mi alma sola y salvaje, a mi nombre que todos ahuyentan.
Hemos visto arder tantas veces el lucero besándonos los ojos
y sobre nuestras cabezas destorcerse los crepúsculos en abanicos girantes.

"Mis palabras llovieron sobre ti acariciándote.
Amé desde hace tiempo tu cuerpo de nácar soleado.
Hasta te creo dueña del universo.
Te traeré de las montañas flores alegres, copihues,
avellanas oscuras, y cestas silvestres de besos.
Quiero hacer contigo
lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos."

"That was just… so sexy…" I said a little breathless.

"You like me speaking Spanish, love?" he asked sultrily.

"Mmm… yes… you sound grrr…" I giggled. "Wonder how you sound in French…"

"Tu dois faire que demander de moi quelque chosa et je te la donnerai… tu es mon âme, je t´aime… tu es ma vie…"

"Mmm… I´m gonna have to learn french… I´d love to understand what you just said …"

"Oh ! ne t´inquiète pas! Ce rien que tu ne sais pas …" he murmured.

I slipped my hands under his shirt and caressed his abdomen, his waist, he shuddered and kissed me with abandon.

"Je veux faire l`amour avec toi, tout le time… tu es si belle… si douce… je ne peux pas croire que tu es mien…" He sighed.

"Oh Edward! …make love to me …"

"Hmm… I thought you didn´t speak French…" He chuckled.

"I don´t… why?"

"I guess I could tell you while I make love to you…"

"Mmhmm… sounds perfect…" I breathed.

Edward continued to kiss my lips, ask me for anything and it`s yours, my neck… you are my soul, my collarbone, the rise of my breast… you are my life, – he ripped my blouse and bra- my nipples… I want to make love with you, my shorts and panties were gone in an instant… all the time, his fingers found my wet center, Mmm Bella… you are so beautiful, he caressed me insistently… so soft, he slipped a finger inside me, I can`t believe you`re mine…

"Yes… I`m yours…" I moaned as he dropped to his knees and kissed my belly.

"You have no idea how much I want you… need you… my beautiful wife…"

Before I could answer, his tongue found my clit and I lost all capacity for coherent thoughts. Leisurely, tenderly, Edward stroked me. Each pass of velvet tongue spiraling me into heaven.

"Oh! Oh! Please… Edward! Oh! Please!..." I´m not sure of what I was begging for, but Edward seemed to understand my body better than me.

Edward gently pushed a finger inside me, then another, curling them a little as he started to stroke me from inside. My knees shook from the pleasure and he swiftly laid me down on the sand. He continued licking and stroking and my orgasm unrelentingly assaulted me in warm waves of bliss.

"Yes, love… so beautiful… you are so exquisite when you come undone like this… I could watch your pleasure forever…" Edward´s voice was a bit rough.

Edward

"Come, Edward, honey. Come inside me," Bella whispered and I obeyed.

As I slipped inside of her she gasped in pleasure and I moan. I could feel every pulse of her heart vibrating around me. Moving within her felt as incredible as the first time: the heat, the silkiness, the tightness of her flesh surrounding me. She was so soft and delicate and my own flesh was so hard that I couldn´t quite fathom the effect it had on me. It was entirely too intense. And so perfect.

I felt myself nearing the edge so I sneaked my hand between us to caress her clitoris. Almost immediately I felt her inner walls start to flutter.

"Yes! Like that… Oh! Edward…" she moaned.

"I … oh God! I love you… ung! Bella… so good my love… mmm…" I mumbled incoherently.

We came chanting our names so softly that our voices could have been easily confused with the wind. I wrapped Bella with the blanket and we settle for stargazing. Bella, looking up the night sky and I counting the stars reflected on her eyes.

She was incomparably beautiful.

"¿Que es poesía? ¿Y tú me lo preguntas? Poesía... eres tú." I said, quoting Becquer.

I know it´s a little fluffy but it was the mood… hope you enjoyed it…

My French is pretty basic, so… feel free to PM me with corrections… I´ll be eternally grateful.

That last bit of poetry is a fragment of a poem of Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer and roughly translated it means: "What is poetry? And you ask me? Poetry… is you."

Poem 14 of Neruda was translated by me, not Edward… so I hope it makes as much sense in English as it does in Spanish… I tried my best I swear… (Spanish is my first language after all)

I know I should have tried for something local, in Portuguese or something… but I really like that poem for them… it´s so Edward!

Solar Flare has been visited by almost 2000 readers and only a few kind souls have reviewed It´s very important to me to know your opinion… it really brightens my day!!! Happy writers make better writers, people!!

Review please! If you do, Edward will whisper love poems in your ear…