Sunday, January 10, 2010

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,
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

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


Howling Lamb said...

Well done, demons! This poem made my day! It must be one of the greatest love poems of all time and the greatest possible argument for "fanaa".
Another Neruda poem I recommend is "Ode with a Lament": "What a pity that I have nothing to give you except the nails of my fingers, or eyelashes or pianos melted by love or dreams which pour from my heart in torrents...."
I will put it on my blog in case you haven't read it. Keep those poems coming and I'd love to read another of your own original poems. Get writing! Your Neruda poem has me howling with delight!

Majestic Elk said...

Wow! Wow! Wow! "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". Oh my God, you demons are geniuses to post such a magnificent poem. God, I wish I were young again and could use this poem to propose to the gazelle of my life." Elk

Anonymous said...

thank you for the serenade


Anonymous said...

Ah the desire of the pititful human beings to masquerade its lackness of being behind the illusion for a search for love. Love is just a word with a metaphysical idea. You human beings exist ina physical world. Metaphysical ideas are mere illusions of the language to distract human being from the pain of lack of knowledge.

If there was such a thing as love, there would have been no search for soem thing new. Read linguistics and Wittengstien (earlier).

Cremated Wolf

desert demons said...

It's a pleasure Neruda amazes every time !!! as for cremated wolf everything cannot and has not been explained by philosophers and ratonalisations somethings have to be felt !