Pablo Neruda

If You Forget Me

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.