if you forget me

I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is:

if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window.

if I touch near the fire

the impalpable ash.

or the wrinkled body of the log.

everything carries me to you.

as if everything that exists

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now.

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly

you forget me.

do not look for me

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad

the wind of banners

that passes through my life.

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember.

that on that day.

at that hour.

I shall lift my arms.

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness.

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me.

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated.

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten.

my love feeds on your love, beloved.

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.



-Pablo Neruda.