The poem
Naked you are simple as one of your hands; Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round. You've moon-lines, apple pathways Naked you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked you are blue as a night in Cuba; You've vines and stars in your hair. Naked you are spacious and yellow As summer in a golden church.
Naked you are tiny as one of your nails; Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born And you withdraw to the underground world.
As if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores; Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves, And becomes a naked hand again.
This must be a translation because the meter, rhyme, and thythm conforms to no sonnet style. As free verse it is lacking in fresh imagery. So I would have to say this is a poor translation of the original and would rather read the original in his native language than this version. This is not a sonnet in any form and anyone that followed this to write their sonnets would be known for not studying the form but trying to take shortcuts by following the translation of Pablo Neruda.