Do you like little gifts? Small, cute ones? Wrapped in beautiful, shiny covers? Not very pricey, but cheap, colorful, sometimes absolutely meaningless, yet, full of joy? Yes! My favorite kind of gift, and specifically, my favorite kind of little joy is a love poem. I love love-poems. Since my teens, I have been a great fan of poetry, but love-poetry in general. In many venues, on many occasions, I have discussed and debated how poetry’s greatest potential could be achieved in the genre of love and romance.

Of course, literature and poetry is different for everyone, that is just a happily passionate opinion, that’s all. And with the same happy passion, I tried to pick ten love poems that are close to my heart. I do not describe them as the greatest or the finest or in any such superlatives, but they are poems I’ve personally read in various occasions, pleased by them, and had them in my heart for long.

All the ten poets I’ve selected the below poems from are my favorites. Beware! You are going to find the words ‘my favorite’ so many times, you are going to doubt my morality!

10. “I Carry Your Heart with Me” by E.E. Cummings

Called as the painter-poet, E.E. Cummings’ poetic style is characterized by its creativity, inventiveness, and a willingness to break traditional rules and norms. His unorthodox punctuation, experiential structures, his play with language, and his love for Nature and Love resonate with all modern readers and has been influencing countless poets since. My favorite poet of all time, I always consider E.E. Cummings as a literary Rockstar rather than a poet.

Here is (one of my) favorite love poem(s) by him.

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]
BY E. E. CUMMINGS

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

09. “Love After Love” by Derek Walcott

Derek Walcott is a strange choice to be on a love-list. Yet, I chose his poem, and also a picture where he was with his wife (in the featured image of this blog). His poems often deal with grand themes of mythology, history, diaspora, identity, and collective consciousness. He is known for his vivid and evocative imagery. He uses lush and sensual descriptions, seamlessly blending English with elements of Creole and African dialects. This linguistic fusion added depth and authenticity to his poems.

How would a love poem from him sound like? This: Intense and beautiful.

Love After Love
BY DEREK WALCOTT

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

08. “Love’s Philosophy” by Percy Bysshe Shelly

I always consider Shelly as the last angel that walked on this planet. I could never imagine him as a normal human being walking on his legs. He needs to have silvery wings, gliding across the sky, hovering above pretty girls. Oh, Shelly! I love him and his poetry.

Deeply political and philosophical, his works are universal in scope. But when P.B. Shelly comes to my mind, I could only think about the love-poet, and of course, the nature poet. If I could get one poet alive to have a love letter written, I wouldn’t choose Shakespeare. I would have Shelly awakened from his early grave.

Try his Love’s (literally) Philosophy.

Love’s Philosophy
BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

The fountains mingle with the river
   And the rivers with the ocean,
The winds of heaven mix for ever
   With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
   All things by a law divine
In one spirit meet and mingle.
   Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven
   And the waves clasp one another;
No sister-flower would be forgiven
   If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth
   And the moonbeams kiss the sea:
What is all this sweet work worth
   If thou kiss not me?

07. “Annabel Lee,” by Edgar Allan Poe

(Thunders blaring! Crows screeching! Wild bats? And one imaginary, guilt-fueled heart beating!)

Damn! There’s no one like our very own Poe! And when I read his ‘Annabel Lee’, I was in love with him. That was the exact poem I wanted to write one day. Still want to. Annabel Lee might be the most beautiful poem in this list apart from the 01st one on the list.

Here’s Annabel Lee:

Annabel Lee
BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Laughed loud at her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went laughing at her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the laughter in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

06. “Sonnet XVII” by Pablo Neruda

My personal king of Free Verse is here! My king of love and sensual poetry! Blare the trumpets! Make way!

When I first read Pablo Neruda’s Twenty Love Poems, I was sixteen or seventeen. I’ve never spent so many sleepless nights reading the same poems again and again. The imagery, invoking desire, the sceneries of sensuality, love overflowing page after page as a thick sweet gel – unforgettable experience. Pablo Neruda might be a social activist and also an entertaining poet of epic range who had dealt with poems of epic proportion and multifaceted themes, for me, the love sonnets of Neruda are beyond comparison.

My favorite, the Seventeenth sonnet:

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII
BY PABLO NERUDA
TRANSLATED BY MARK EISNER

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,   
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:   
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,   
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries   
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,   
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose   
from the earth lives dimly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,   
I love you directly without problems or pride:
I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,
except in this form in which I am not nor are you,   
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,   
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.

05. “Love – Though Art High” by Emily Dickenson

The unanimous lover of every poetry lover’s heart, the most impactful and probably the greatest poet of all time – the only worthy rival of Shakespeare (apart from Poe, Shelly, Milton, and some other names), Emily Dickenson is the heart throb of world’s poetry.

Damn! That’s the real introduction worthy of her!

Just with her mere presence, she has lifted American Poetry to unprecedented heights. Giants like Whitman will be forgotten, but not our Emily. My Emily.

Here is what she has to say about Love:

Love - Thou Art High
BY EMILY DICKENSON

Love—thou art high—
I cannot climb thee—
But, were it Two—
Who know but we—
Taking turns—at the Chimborazo—
Ducal—at last—stand up by thee—

Love—thou are deep—
I cannot cross thee—
But, were there Two
Instead of One—
Rower, and Yacht—some sovereign Summer—
Who knows—but we'd reach the Sun?

Love—thou are Veiled—
A few—behold thee—
Smile—and alter—and prattle—and die—
Bliss—were an Oddity—without thee—
Nicknamed by God—
Eternity—

04. “Love Song” by Rainer Maria Rilke

The intense, spiritual, mystical, metaphysical, philosophical, symbolic, allegorical, elegant and precise master of lyrics and musical verse is here. His introspective, self-reflective, deep and beautiful poetry is timeless. To pick only one poem of his is a sin to commit, and I know I am going to burn in hell.

The Love Song of Mr. Rilke is this:

Love Song
BY RAINER MARIA RILKE
TRANSLATED BY STEPHEN MITCHELL

How can I keep my soul in me, so that
it doesn't touch your soul? How can I raise
it high enough, past you, to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among remote
lost objects, in some dark and silent place
that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you,
takes us together like a violin's bow,
which draws one voice out of two separate strings.
Upon what instrument are we two spanned?
And what musician holds us in his hand?
Oh sweetest song.

03. “I Loved You” by Alexander Pushkin

Alexander Pushkin, often regarded as the father of Russian literature, is celebrated for his influential poetic style, which combines classicism with a distinctive Russian flair. He is not only a literary giant but also as a cultural icon in Russia. He is versatile, and wrote wide range of poems. His poetry often explores themes of love, freedom, and the human spirit.

His ‘I Loved You’ is here:

I Loved You
BY ALEXANDER PUSHKIN

(LITERAL TRANSLATION)
I loved you:  yet the love, maybe,
Has not extinguished in my heart;
But hence may not it trouble thee;
I do not want to make you sad.
I loved you hopelessly and mutely,
Now with shyness, now with jealousy being vexed;
I loved you so sincerely, so fondly,
Likewise may someone love you next.

Another version is at "A collection of poems by Alexander Pushkin":
TRANSLATED BY YEVGENY BONVER

I loved you: and, it may be, from my soul
The former love has never gone away,
But let it not recall to you my dole;
I wish not sadden you in any way.

I loved you silently, without hope, fully,
In diffidence, in jealousy, in pain;
I loved you so tenderly and truly,
As let you else be loved by any man.

02. “How Do I Love Thee?” (Sonnet 43) by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, a prominent English poet of the Victorian era, is celebrated for her distinctive and innovative poetic style, characterized by several key elements. Browning is renowned for her collection of love sonnets, “Sonnets from the Portuguese.” These sonnets explore themes of love, passion, and personal emotion.

Here is the 43rd poem from her famous sonnet cycle.

Sonnets from the Portuguese 43: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways 
BY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day’s
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

01. “A Red Red Rose” by Robert Burns

[It is the Death of the Poet here]

Damn! What a poem! What passion! He keeps on calling her as ‘my dear’, ‘my love’, ‘my bonny lass’, and huh! Probably the greatest love poem in the whole language!

A Red, Red Rose
BY ROBERT BURNS

O my Luve is like a red, red rose
   That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
   That’s sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
   So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
   Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
   While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!
   And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
   Though it were ten thousand mile.

Thank you note:

Thank you thank you thank you for sharing my love for my favorite poems. All the opinions on the above poems and the poets are my own. No offense, chill, they are all my lovers, and I love them more than I can express. And regarding the copyright, I am not selling these, not making any profit. This is just a hobby, and say, for ‘educational purposes’ only.

Wait Wait Wait:

You’ve read ten poems of love, would you not like to read one poem that is written by me? I am sure you would love it. No comparisons with the above, and I am not claiming such merit. But just one poem? Here:

Gardens of Rose
BY INDRA

Did I see her come?
Did I see her go?
Forget did I, her, like I’d forget words
And way to home?
Although there is no place in the world
That wouldn’t speak of her,
Why do I roam?
Then
Where do I go?
Into hiding?

Is the heart not a world of its own?
Do we master it ever?
Do we learn?
Aren’t its ways a maze to the one
Who have fallen in its folds?
Incautious!
Fallen to the fragrance of its gardens of rose!

Wings of wax would (anyway) melt
And throw us down.
Doomed we shall remain!
What to think and what not to?
Do I know?
I don’t!
But the eyes are windows to endless skys: I soared in hers,
I soared,
Lips are the most cherished
Rivers and petals.
Though I didn’t reach hers,
I know. I just know.

Where do I go now?
What is my home?
Or maybe, roam, I should
Endlessly, screaming:
“This earth, that, as a whole
Is my true goal:
My eternal home!”
But think:
If I could just embrace the globe?
Its mountains, plains, valleys and boats?
Get wet in its bottomless oceans, rivers and zygotes?
Would that feel just like her?
Her embrace?
Her warmth and her echoes?

Oh she’s a Calypso.
She’s a Calypso.

For more of my poems, kindly visit my poetry blog.

Thank you!