Poetry Monday

Oops, missed a week there, didn't I? Oh, well, I'm back now, and this week we have Pablo Neruda
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.